Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?
by AlienYak
Summary: PostGF fic. The battle is over, and the Genobreaker is back where it belongs. But at what cost to the people retrieving it? The first half has ended, the second half begins! RavenRyss, MoonbeiIrvine
1. Can't forget you

DISCLAIMER: I don't own ZOIDS!  
  
Chapter 1: Can't forget you, even when you've forgotten yourself.  
  
It was strange, that in the immaculately kept cemetery, there would be one small section left completely unattended. A hidden corner containing two tombstones, side by side... clogged with rotting debris, when all the others were clean and covered with fresh flowers. Others had engraved messages of love, hope, remembrance, while these two only had hastily scratched names.  
  
In the memorial built for those who had died whilst battling the Ultimate Deathsaurer, these two were the only graves Van Flyheight visited on a regular basis. He came whenever he had a spare moment, and would stare at the piled dirt, seeing past it to envisage the empty wooden caskets buried underneath.  
  
He crouched and yanked out weeds viciously, looking at the single words. REIVUN. RYSS. After the Zoideve sunk back into the sand they had all disappeared. No red Geno Breaker, no black or blue organoids, no tracks in the sand. No bodies either. The people around him theorised that Raven, Ryss and their organoids had been sucked in helplessly along with the Geno Breaker, which had -they reminded him- fallen off the top of a very tall building. Van had snorted derisively in reply.  
  
Raven was never helpless.  
  
Still, no one had bothered to help him search. Not Fiona, Irvine or Moonbei. Not even Zeke. Well, that was to be expected. Zeke was really Fiona's organoid, not his. Only the Blade Liger was his own. And his arch rival... that's his as well. Or at least, he was. Van clenched both fists, angrily recalling his conversation with Rudolph after that battle.  
  
"Perhaps it is for the best if they sank with the Zoideve," Rudolph had said. "They both have extensive criminal records against the Republic, and they are two of the last links to the Deathsaurer."  
  
"But Fiona is connected to it too! More so than Raven or Ryss ever was."  
  
"They were both major catalysts. Had he not collected so many zoid cores for Prozen, the original Deathsaurer would not have been able to awaken. If they had not cooperated with Hiltz's plans, the Ultimate Deathsaurer could not have been resurrected."  
  
"That isn't fair and you know it," he'd accused, slamming both hands upon the desk.  
  
Rudolph had sighed. "I'm sorry Van. You may be the world's greatest zoid pilot, but you are no politician. This has to be done."  
  
"Some greatest pilot," Van snorted. "Raven beats me every time in the Geno Breaker."  
  
"Raven is dead now, remember?"  
  
"No. I refuse to believe it. He and Ryss are out there somewhere; I'm sure of it." He'd stood straight, defiant. "And I'm going to find them."  
  
He'd stormed out before the Emperor could reply, and headed straight for Guardian Force Headquarters to hand in his resignation form.  
  
They'd naturally objected (having the hero who "single-handedly" destroyed the Deathsaurer twice was a double boost to their morale and reputation) but realised that they would be unable to stop him. Besides, evil had been destroyed once and for all. All that remained now were petty bandits and gangs. They wouldn't need Van's help for something as small as that. He frowned. Those same petty bandits were now practically ruling the desert. Apart from a select few pilots who'd survived the Ultimate Deathsaurer, there were practically no skilled pilots anywhere. Most of the older pilots chose to retire, or refused to work in a low-paying job such as the Guardian Force. Van knew that had he stayed, they might have chosen to sign up. Instead, the Republican and Imperial armies were filled with amateur zoid pilots who had little to no battle experience. It was pathetic.  
  
'I'm beginning to understand why Raven was so frustrated with me now,' he thought wryly. 'I was such a horrible pilot, it's a wonder he didn't just kill me with one shot.'  
  
Tracing his finger along the tombstone, he grinned slightly. A dot and a laterally inverted seven were visible, if only faintly. He'd often just sit here for hours, just tracing the design while brooding. 'And this is why I don't try to think in the Liger. He wouldn't really appreciate my attempt at art.'  
  
Using a 'borrowed' broom, he swept the mutilated foliage and dirt onto a newly pruned patch of rosebushes, ignoring the distant yells and protests. Van chucked the broom into the bushes as well, before running off before someone could come to attack him. Scaling the stone walls easily, he flipped over the side, landed then ran to his Liger and climbed into the cockpit. He closed the hatch, then paused.  
  
Where to now?  
  
He could bust some rookie pilot's over-inflated ego, find Raven, rescue another small village from an attack by bandits, find Raven, hunt out another badly decorated bandit lair, find Raven, or play a few tricks on the Guardian Force. He could also sell the spare parts he'd been hounding. Or, if he was really bored, try to find Raven.  
  
Van grinned. His life was so meaningful.  
  
**********  
  
"Hey kid, why don't you just give up now before I slice that zoid of yours apart." "There's no way you'll beat me!" yelled the teen confidently. He piloted a Command Wolf that was clearly brand new. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you." Abruptly, the Blade Liger shot forward, and had swept past the other zoid by a mere centimetre before his opponent had even reacted. "What?!" the Command Wolf turned, trying to find its opponent. "How did you move so fast? You must have cheated." "They're called boosters, kid. And ever heard of modifications? They help too." "That's not fair! I'm going home so my Dad can buy me a better zoid to play with." The black zoid turned and ran off.  
  
'Give me a break.' Van shook his head in disgust. The Liger jumped and landed directly in front of the Command Wolf, forcing it to stop. "What kind of zoid pilot are you?" he demanded. "Zoids aren't some toy you replace once you grow bored with it!" "Hey! It's my zoid and I'll decide what to do with it. So just get out of my way!" The teen began to fire at the Blade Liger, thinking that he'd hit for sure at point blank range. He was shocked when the bullets struck the Liger's shield, then was promptly rammed by it. "Maybe that'll teach you some respect," snapped Van. He glared at the prone form of the Command Wolf and its unconscious pilot, then turned away in disgust. 'He wouldn't have fainted after one measly hit. He would have gotten up, ripped my Blade Liger half apart then fired a Charged Particle Beam at me.'  
  
"Halt! This is the Guardian Force, and you are under arrest for disrupting the peace. Get out of your zoid slowly, and put your hands in the air." "Another bunch of amateurs looking to get pummeled? What a day." Ignoring the unit of Guysacks, he moved away irritably. "I repeat, get out of your zoid!" yelled the commanding officer. He began firing rapidly out of his tail at the Blade Liger. Scowling, Van dodged each bullet then jumped at the Guysack, slashing the gun off with a claw. "Why don't you lay off before you hurt yourself?" he taunted, watching as the other zoids aimed their tails at him. The Liger unfurled his blades and attacked, slicing off four guns in an instant. He landed, jumped higher to avoid the other Guysacks' shots, then sliced off four more. Within minutes the entire unit had been crippled.  
  
"Is that the best the Repulican army has to offer? I'm really disappointed," he sneered. "No wonder bandits are running around everywhere unchecked." "The Guardian Force is not to be mocked, felon!" yelled the officer in outrage. "Whatever you say." Looking up, Van saw another unit heading his way, this one comprised of 30 Molgas followed by a single Iron Kong. The Molgas aimed their guns at him, until a voice from the Iron Kong ordered, "Hold your fire!"  
  
Colonel Schubaltz's face appeared on the screen in front of him. "Van Flyheight. It's been a while." "Yeah well. I've been busy," shrugged the former Lieutenant. "So I've heard. I'd like to talk to you for a bit; it won't take up much of your time." "Alright."  
  
The former comrades climbed out of their respective cockpits, and Karl ordered the two units to return to the Guardian Force base. In silence, the pilots watched as the disabled Guysacks and the Molgas retreated. "There've been reports of a blue Blade Liger challenging other Zoids at random. I assume that was you?" "Just letting off some steam. Besides, those pilots can't handle a Zoid anyway." Karl raised an eyebrow. "You know who you sound like." "Yeah." A pause. "I'm assuming you haven't found him yet." "No," replied Van, huffing in frustration. "I've looked everywhere; and nothing! No one's even seen him. It's like the bastard disappeared right off the face of the planet!"  
  
The Colonel took his hat off and pretended to inspect it, watching the irritated pilot of the Blade Liger. Internally, he debated whether to share his information. He replaced the hat and said, "There's a house where Raven used to live at before he joined the army. You might be able to find him there." "You know where it is?" Van asked incredulously. His fists clenched with anticipation. "Not many people know the spot, and its a long shot that Raven even remembers it. But if you really want to find him, you might want to try it. It's at..."  
  
**********  
  
He was disappointed. All those new guns and the extra ammunition... how was he supposed to know the place had no bandits whatsoever? And he'd traded all those spare Gunsniper and Godos parts too for his fancy new plasma cannon, but he hadn't even gotten to test it out properly in battle.  
  
The lack of bandits told him that there was either a very powerful pilot around, or a lack of valuable goods. Judging by the exceptionally wealthy but poorly defended town he passed, he decided it was the former. Now he just had to find this powerful pilot, who insisted on remaining anonymous to strangers.  
  
"Sorry, but I owe that guy, and I ain't telling his secret for nothing."  
  
"Who are you anyway? No, it's not my business to tell you."  
  
"Get out before I set the dogs on you."  
  
It was all very inconvinient.  
  
'Stupid hermit.' He tried a different tactic with the owner of a bar that looked positively ancient. "Excuse me sir, but I'm interested in organoids, and I heard something about there being an organoid research lab somewhere around here." The bartender squinted at him. "Sorry lad, but your a decade or so too late. That old lab hasn't been occupied since the old owners were killed and the kid got whisked off by the Republicans."  
  
Van frowned. "Republicans? Isn't this Imperial territory?" "Used to be neutral ground, it was. Now it's an Imperial lot," replied the tender. "Why? You in the Republican army or something?" "No no. Just curious. So do you know what happened to the kid?" Van asked hopefully. "Haven't seen the poor lad since." "Oh. Well I'd be grateful if you told me how to get to the lab. There might still be valuable information in there that I could use and learn from." "Well... I only know that its a little east of here. Other than that I can't really give you any directions. No one's ever been to the old lab; it's cursed." "Thanks."  
  
**********  
  
It was luck, really, that he'd found the cave. Overhead, a rare desert thunderstorm raged, shooting jagged bolts of lightning across the horizon. The cave was large enough to house his Liger... otherwise, he'd have to be satisfied with it being nice and crispy. Bored, he toyed with a spare bullet from his handgun, cursing when it fell from his hand and rolled. Chasing after it, he saw it roll into a niche in the wall. Sighing, he slid his hand in and began to grope for the bullet.  
  
He couldn't find it. Stretching more, he realised that his arm could go through the hole. Then his shoulder, and eventually his whole body slipped in. Van's eyes widened; he hadn't realised that the opening was this big. Continuing to shuffle along, he saw that he was actually in a passage leading deep into the mountain. At the other end was a wall, with a hole on top. Rain poured through and drenched him, but he ignored it: the scuff marks on the wall had caught his eye.  
  
They were boot marks, and the size was around nine. The soles were worn, but intact. Higher up were different marks that looked as if they were made with gloved hands. 'Someone's been here before me, and pretty recently too.' He placed his own fingers into the grove and pulled himself up, swearing when his boots skidded on the slippery surface and his fingers scraped down.  
  
Thankfully the wall was only three metres tall. Van pulled himself over the edge and sucked his lacerated fingers, ignoring the trickle of water. He found that this place was invisible from above: a thick canopy and cliff face screened it from view. More interesting were the deep stratches carved into the rock, as though something with claws had often stood here.  
  
Walking with care along the wall -which had widened to form a small platform, he found himself in a dense forest. Had it not been for the small trail leading through, Van would have quickly become lost. Following the trail, he came into a clearing and blinked, trying to clear the rain from his eyes. He was not disappointed.  
  
An old house with a wrecked shed built on as an extension. Despite its abandoned appearance, Van could see no holes in the roof through which water could leak; the house was kept in good repair. He walked forward and pushed open the lockless door.  
  
Inside, the house was dry and bare, except for a table with two chairs in the kitchen, a threadbare sofa in the lounge, a privy, a bathroom with a tank of water, a bedroom with a bed and desk, and a master bedroom with a double bed and drawers. Scuff marks indicated that other furniture had once been present, but had been moved away. There were matches, bread, crockery and cutlery, salt, and firewood in the kitchen cupboards, paper in the privy, shampoo and soap in the bathroom, and various damaged Zoid parts on the desk. The drawers were locked. There was definitely someone living here.  
  
Van sat down on a chair to review some facts he'd managed to glean from the villagers before he'd been kicked out. Yes, there was a young man who lived around the village, though not in it. No, they'd never seen a red Zoid around, though they had seen distant explosions before. Only the smoking shells of various bandit Zoids left, completely emaciated. They were never looted -the man was far too honourable for that- (though Van suspected it was a different kind of pride to what they thought. After all, the pilot he searched for was not above stealing, but would never take something not worth his while.) And no, they didn't know how the Zoids had died, only that the young man had done so, and why did he want to know anyway?!  
  
Raven was dangerous without a Zoid or even without Shadow, this he knew from past experience. People tended to overlook the fact, but only because he was that much scarier when he was actually in one of those metallic monstrosities that could blow up an entire fortress with a Charged Particle Beam, or walking along flanked by the most forbidding organoid ever. But the stupid maverick could also be quite stealthy when he wanted, and he concluded that the reason the villagers hadn't seen the Geno Breaker was because Raven didn't want them to.  
  
The most idiotic grin split his face. "Raven, I've found you." 


	2. What do you mean you're leaving!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own ZOIDS! AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and who proved to me that spending a little extra time on things evoke more positive responses! On a side note, the original title of this fic was 'Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance, fool?' but it didn't quite fit. Ah well, enjoy!  
  
Chapter 2: What do you mean you're leaving?!  
  
He yawned, then grimaced as his back creaked oddly. Sleeping in a chair was definitely not good for his back, and he realised with a start that it was midmorning. Had he slept through the entire afternoon and night? Surely he wasn't that fatigued just from fighting a couple of amateur pilots. In fact, he couldn't even recall feeling drowsy, or falling asleep in the first place. The last he remembered, he was sitting in this chair, bored. Copying the gesture to try and help him remember, Van winced when his hand struck a bruise shaped suspiciously like the corner of the table. He stood up, scowling, then sat down heavily on the bed, which felt quite warm...  
  
Cursing, Van stumbled from the bed, tripping over the chair in the process and smacking his bruised cheek into the closed and locked door. 'Okay, now I know someone's been here.' A swift kick broke the lock and he flung the door open, ran out and down the stairs. Outside, he yanked on his boots and listened. The sound of a nearby Zoid was still audible, but it was too light to be the Geno Breaker or his Liger. He scanned the forest, and picked out a path different from the one he'd traveled on previously. Tearing down it, he grinned as the noise became louder. Zoids obviously had more difficulty moving through the forest; otherwise, he'd never have gained on it.  
  
"Hey! Wait up!"  
  
The Zoid -a Gunsniper- turned resignedly to look at him. He could vaguely see a female form with short hair in the cockpit, and concluded that it was Ryss. 'Explains why I fell asleep so suddenly,' he scowled, sending more mental abuse he hoped the Zoidian was listening to while stopping before the Gunsniper. The hatch opened, and Ryss jumped out, landing with a feline composure Fiona had never possessed while exiting a Zoid. Actually, Fiona had generally fallen out of the cockpit, or else spent quite a while on the ladders set especially for her, attended on both sides by several male pilots.  
  
"You should still be asleep. That spell was programmed to keep you unconscious and off my back for at least twenty-four hours," Ryss explained peevishly, not apologising for her manipulation. "Though I should have known better than to assume when Van Flyheight is involved." "Why put me to sleep? You should have been able to figure out my intentions." "Yes, but as I said, one cannot assume with you. I didn't know if you were really clueless, or just acting. I don't believe someone who can best Raven in a zoid battle can be completely stupid, and if you're just acting..." She shrugged.  
  
"Ryss, you're the only one who can help me find Raven." Blue bangs flew as she shook her head in frustration. "Believe me, if I could find that bloody hermit" Van coughed discretely at her usage of his term "I would be with him right now. I thought he'd be here, but now I don't know where the hell he is." "Where is 'here' exactly?" Surprise showed upon her face. "You mean you don't know? This is Raven's old house." "Raven and I aren't exactly best buddies," he pointed out wryly in response to her question. "He hates me."  
  
Ryss pursed her lips, as though debating something of importance. "Maybe he doesn't hate you as much as he claims. I pray that be the case, because I am out of options." "Huh? What do you-" "I need to tell him something very important. Normally we're content to just bump into each other occasionally -Zoideve knows we'd tear each other apart otherwise- but this can't wait." "You're pregnant?" suggested Van, receiving a thoroughly venomous glare. "That's classified information. No. Take a look at this."  
  
She handed him a innocent little book, opened at the first page. Bright orange words jumped out at him from a blue background. He frowned and read the introduction aloud. "'The adventures of Van Flihite, the champion pilot who single-handedly destroyed both the original and the Ultimate Deathsaurer continue, as he continues to hunt down his sworn enemy, the evil, malicious Raevin and his sneaky crony Shadow, to stop them from destroying the whole world. Armed with the all powerful Blaede Liga, he and his pal Zeque will fight against Raevin's Genoebraeka....' What the hell is this? And what's with the spelling?" the famous pilot demanded, face going both red with embarrassment and blue with horror, resulting in a particularly gruesome shade of mauve.  
  
"Oh, the original names weren't... exotic enough, or something. This is the official Van Flihite manga series that has taken the world by storm, and has earned the Guardian Force a ton of money." "How much?" "40 million dollars for the copyright, and 30% royalties. "Shit," he breathed. "40 million dollars could buy an entire army, navy and air force, plus a century's worth ammo, and all the extra parts and pieces you could possibly want. Hell, you could probably buy a Deathsaurer or two with that much cash!" "That would be exactly what they did. Buy an army that is." Ryss frowned, trying to remember the details. "Although some of the money was split between the authority of the Guardian Force, there was still 30 million left for resources. They bought 500 Shield Ligers; those will be the backbone of this army." She noted his disgusted expression. "Propaganda purposes. Then there's 300 Command Wolves, 50 Gojulas, 15 Ultrasaurus, 400 Godos and 400 Guysacks."  
  
The figures took quite a while to sink in. Ryss wondered whether Van was traumatised, when he asked monotonously, "What are they going to do with so many Zoids?" "First on the agenda is capturing Raven. They'll be deploying 50 Shield Ligers, 60 Command Wolves, 100 Godos and 150 Guysacks." "That's quite an army," he mused. "Yes, but the rewards for capturing him will be well worth it." "That's not fair!" "Of course it isn't, Van," replied Ryss cynically. "But life isn't fair and you know that. All you can do is to try and remedy other people's mistakes, or prevent them." "Yes. I have to warn Raven."  
  
She eyed him critically. "You'll have to do much better than that. He has to disappear completely, and as much as he denies it, that guy can be quite attention seeking at times." "Tell me about it." "And don't bother with the 'if you die you won't be able to kill me' argument; he's over that. I think." A shrug. "Though when he declared that he was about 500 miles away from you. It's a long shot." The answering grin scared her. "Long shots are my specialty."  
  
**********  
  
Ryss had abandoned him after handing over a list of places Raven was likely to be, with orders to burn it afterwards. She declared that she had no intention of being caught by the Guardian Force and being coerced into revealing her knowledge of the maverick's possible whereabouts, or of being used as a lure. Van was unimpressed, and questioned her integrity to Raven; she logically retorted that if they split up, they'd have a better chance of finding him. He was positive there was some fatal flaw in her reasoning, but was unable to find it. Thus, he was now alone in the house, and at a dilemma.  
  
"I could wait here a while longer for Raven to come and try to convince him to go into hiding before he kills me, or I could go and look for that jerk while destroying more bandits and stupid jocks who don't know anything about Zoids, then have an even harder time trying to stay alive while trying to convince him. I should naturally choose the first option, but I'll probably be bored to death anyway, then he'll come back and find my rotting body and then add another... no, two more reasons to kill me onto the long list that has Zoideve only knows what on it. Then, he'll probably be so busy plotting that he'll not notice or forget about my note telling him to run away. Then again, he was pretty civil in the fight against the Ultimate Deathsaurer, but only because we were fighting against Hiltz, someone he hated even more than me. Poor bastard, that's quite some achievement. Ow, now I have to stop trying to think like him. My mind can only get so twisted. So back to the initial problem. I think I'll go with the fir-" He cringed when the floorboards creaked spookily. "Um... the latter then."  
  
With more enthusiasm than mere wood should be made to endure, Van stomped down the stairs and out the door, retracing the path from the previous day to find his Liger. Greeting the Zoid happily, he eyed the temperamental Zoid critically, searching for the slightest indication of mistreatment. The armour was brightly polished and flawless, the blades poised. Each gun was fully loaded, and the shiny new plasma cannon practically begged to be tested. Liger watched his pilot fondly, though with poorly-disguised impatience: he was fine, there was no need to stand there and gawk stupidly. He wanted to go now.  
  
Satisfied, he popped open the hatch and climbed into the cockpit, practically wriggling with excitement. Somehow, the novelty of piloting this Zoid had never worn thin, or perhaps it had been thicker for him than most to start with. After all, it wasn't everyone who saw a Zoid form right around them as they waited to be shot to smithereens. Besides, this was the one asset he truly owned; he had no house, business, heirlooms or any other object of value. His Liger was essentially his life.  
  
After plotting the coordinates of the house and cave onto his in-built map, Van set out randomly, humming tunelessly to himself. The storm clouds hadn't quite cleared, but there was no sign of imminent rain either. The weather was stuffy yet cool outside; inside, the climate was very comfortable. He strolled along, enjoying the leisurely pace for a while before breaking into a sprint. Liger liked these impulsive changes from placid to aggressive; they matched the Zoid's playful personality.  
  
Sands whipped past as they ran at breakneck speeds, never in a straight line. Imaginary missiles fired, but Liger dodged them all with ease. They moved fast, faster than even a Lightning Saix could manage, because they were the perfect team. Once, he could not achieve this speed without the aid of the evolved Zeke, but after years of independence, he had done it. If he fought Raven's Genobreaker now, who would win? The ultimate speed/agility combination vs. the ultimate power? 'I forget to factor in our skills as Zoid pilots. Raven is also the ultimately skilled pilot, while I'm the gambler.'  
  
Liger roared at his self-deprecation. It charged even faster, if that were at all possible, and practically burned a trail through the desert. Van forgot his doubts and popped open the hatch to enjoy the artificial winds. They moved so fast now, that sand dared not touch them; moving air particles spun a shield around them to keep away debris. The wind whipped back his hair and clothes, rattling the supplies stored in the back of the cockpit until he pulled the hatch back down with difficulty.  
  
Recalling the list from the inside of his glove, where it had been safely stashed, he looked at the list thoughtfully. A few places he recognised; the others were completely foreign. Opening up the in-built map, he studied it, marking down the places upon the list with special dots. He searched for the ones he was unfamiliar with, hoping they were standard map places; Van could think of nothing worse than spending another two years to find some hidden but abandoned niche in the middle of nowhere.  
  
Of the 32 possible places, he managed to locate 27. He would have to ask the locals about the last 5. Activating a special function, he watched lines join the dots and compared their positioning to the house he'd just left. He also highlighted the area free of bandits, and immediately noticed the relationship between all three. The places upon the list spiraled around the house, and the bandit-free area was contained within their borders. 'I was right after all. Raven was the one keeping all the bandits out of the area. But what for? Pity, irritation... he can move about freely within that town, and trusts the people in it to keep his secrets. Freedom, then? Or something else? Damnit Raven. Why'd you have to be so complicated?'  
  
Saving the marked map on a seperate file and making a back-up, he considered possible routes. Liger shifted uncomfortably; he did not like standing around. As Van slid the paper back into his glove, Liger's ears pricked up at the distant sound of shifting rock, something his pilot could not hear. Experience told the Zoid that the noise was unnatural, and a buried memory suggested ambush in a chasm. He ran, confusing his pilot with the uninstructed movement, though the young man was willing to let it slide. Sand once again flew beneath his paws.  
  
**********  
  
"Whoa." They skid to a halt to look over the edge of a sheer but low cliff into a chasm. He checked his map, having lost track of their location: they were 20 miles away from the house. He rechecked the map, and read the useful information also available. The valley at the bottom was useless as an ecosystem; nothing but rock and sand cared to grow in such a place. Yet... he could detect slight movement. Several slight movements. Changing the focus of Liger's vision, Van could barely see figures hiding in the shade, and metal emerging from rock.  
  
Bang! Crack! Several Zoids suddenly appeared: two Command Wolves, a Dark Horn, and a Guysack. The first three surrounded the figures, meanly brandishing the vicious guns and blades that had been attached while the Guysack stayed behind. 'Bandits, in all probability.' Logically, he should have charged right in to drive off the bandits, but he instinctively stayed his hand. Moments later, separate blasts pierced the two Command Wolves. The Zoids turned grey; they'd been shot through the Zoid Core. Van watched as one missile -remarkedly blue in colour- arced up, then turned back to plummet through the Guysack, while a third shot penetrated the Dark Horn.  
  
'Clinical.' The owners of the dead Zoids climbed out, holding guns and knives. Two advanced into the shadows with their knives, but flew back out mere moments later. The others fired their guns, but the bullets rebounded off something, giving off a metallic chime just audible from the cliff. A dark shape barreled into the men, knocking both unconscious. It seemed about to attack, but paused as though listening. The shape haughtily withdrew, and he saw the figures continue in their initial directions.  
  
"Hey, wait!" Liger jumped, smoothly diving at the figures. He thought he saw the taller one turn, and the silver of a very large gun gave him a single warning before the missile fired. Though Van quickly dodged midair, the projectile still only missed by a foot or so. The Liger landed awkwardly upon the opposite cliff face and skidded, fighting for a grip before they both tumbled off.  
  
In the short interval it took to regain balance, the figures had disappeared. Van shuddered; he had no doubt that had the figure meant to hit him, Liger would not have been able to merely dodge. He would have had to throw up the shield to escape damage from the attack, something he hadn't done for ...a very long while. Sure, he used the shield to boost his Zoid's proficiency as a battering ram, and liked to intimidate young pilots with it, or used it when he was bored of dodging... but, need it?  
  
"Come back here Raven!" 


	3. Nande Kuso! What do you mean you sold it...

DISCLAIMER: I don't own ZOIDS!  
  
Chapter 3: Nande kuso?! What do you mean you sold it?!  
  
"Raaaaavvvveeeeennnn...." whined Van desperately. "Talk to me, will you?"  
  
Expectedly, the addressed stoically ignored the sound, though perhaps an eyebrow twitched? It was difficult to gauge the maverick's reaction when he presented the Blade Liger with a spectacular view of the back of his head, covered with matted grey locks. Sulkily, Van puffed and tried again.  
  
"You'll have to talk sometime, you know. It's not human to not talk for more than ten minutes! I bet you chat to that pile of scrap metal-" Menacing growls warned him to proceed no further along that line of thought, though the organoid seemed content to let him trail the pair. 'Maybe they haven't noticed I was here,' he thought hopefully, though that was an obscene idea even for him; a giant, bright blue Zoid clunking along 'stealthily' in a very narrow valley was hardly difficult to see.  
  
Liger did a Zoid's equivalent of rolling his eyes as he listened to his pilot mentally ramble. He may have liked the kid, but the ancient Zoid was under no illusions about the eccentricities of his pilot, whose current lack of tact was likely to get them both killed. Liger recognised the other boy and his organoid; they were likely to be plotting to murder his pilot at that very instant, judging by the irritated stomping both now resorted to. Though he wasn't an expert on human behaviour, he was sure smoke rising from the two was not a good sign.  
  
Contentedly oblivious, Van continued to throw comments at the maverick and his organoid. Now Liger was certain he could see smoke billowing... or maybe that was just from the gun?  
  
KABOOM Ah ha, it was the gun! Liger felt smug at being correct. He wasn't sure how the gun exploded, though he suspected that the human had been clenching the metal a little too hard. His pilot seemed a little more concerned; he exited the cockpit and ran over to the other man. The organoid growled, sable skin flashing as metal muscles coiled and sprang. Reflexes allowed his pilot to dodge relatively unharmed. Putting up both hands, Van backed away slowly.  
  
"Shadow, leave be," commanded the still-smoking maverick, who stared blankly at his hand. The organoid growled in protest but obeyed, giving Van a glare before retreating into shade. He took the oppurtunity to run to Raven and inspect the injured pilot. The explosion had sent large pieces of metal slicing through black clad arms, though the pale face was unmarked. Smaller splinters had lacerated his ungloved hand, though they failed to break through the prominent scar already present on the calloused palm.  
  
"I'm so sorry!" Van burst out, starting to rip a piece of cloth from his tunic for bandaging. The other's unbloodied hand flapped in dismissal and paused his actions, though its owner never looked up from the injured appendage. Shaking his head, he continued to tear until he had a long strip of material. Deftly, he slid it around one long gash on an injured arm; another bandage fastened over a second wound. Raven did not react until a smaller piece was tied around his injured hand, thus blocking his view of the scar.  
  
"What are you doing, Flyheight?" "Oh, so it's back to Flyheight again is it? Whatever happened to calling me Van? And what's it look like I'm doing? I'm bandaging your wounds since you're too stoned to do it, and so that you don't bleed to death on me. Literally and figuratively." In a bizarre show of patience, Raven answered the questions one by one, without performing any acts of impending violence. "I'm calling you Flyheight again instead of Van, because 'Van' annoys me and 'Flyheight' doesn't. It looks like you're trying to cut off my blood circulation with random pieces of scrap cloth. Which doesn't really help you're 'I'm trying to save you from imminent death' argument. And what I meant was 'why the hell aren't you in a cosy little office with the Guardian Force enjoying the privileges of being the hero who saved the world twice from the Deathsaurer?"  
  
It was possibly the longest speech the maverick had made in his life; needless to say, both he and Van were rather surprised. A few mutual blinks, and a trace of red on the former's cheeks other than the recent spray of blood and laterally inverted seven and dot? "Didn't you know? I quit the GF right after the Ultimate Deathsaurer was defeated, and I've been looking for you ever since," replied Van, after overcoming his initial shock from hearing his rival's voice for an extended period of time. "You're so hard to find, you know? Which is probably a good thing considering that the GF's after you again..." "Hmph." Determined not to let himself make another pointless speech, Raven shrugged to show his disdain for the other pilot's former employees. "I've been on 'WANTED' posters around the entire planet for years. I don't need your help."  
  
To Van's dismay, he stalked off, followed closely by Shadow. The organoid gave him an odd look (pity for his stupidity?) and turned his head to his owner, growling softly. A pause; Raven looked down at his hand again. For a moment, hope that he had come to his senses rose for his former nemesis. A glance from the maverick cut that notion short. "I liked the other Flyheight better," he declared cryptically, then started off again, leaving Van staring in confusion. "Huh? When'd you start dating my sister?"  
  
One bleeding nose, three black eyes, twelve bruises and two wobbly teeth later, Van had determined that Raven had yet to meet his sister and convinced the maverick to enter the sacred realm of the Blade Liger. Neither of the latter two were exactly thrilled about the arrangement, but as he had shown a rare burst of diplomacy neither could refuse. Liger was easy to deal with; mention the words "SCRAP METAL" and "USED PARTS DEALER", and the fearsome Zoid was as timid as a salamander of the non-firebreathing species (though Van was convinced that his partner was merely humouring him). The harder problem was of course, getting the Raven to agree.  
  
In a walnut shell, the maverick had been bribed with a sack of rice, bottle of port, a microwave, Van's own mp3 player and stack of songs, and a long roll of duct tape, as well as three thousand dollars in cash, while also having a random metal pole hanging above his head. Though usually completely unresponsive to threats of any nature or type, the bribe part Raven liked, and the idea of being followed aimlessly by EARDRUM-BUSTINGLY- NOISY whining Van was not pleasant. At least, with this arrangement, he would only have to suffer LOUD whining. That he considered fair.  
  
And so, one scowling grey-haired pilot entered one sulking blue-headed Zoid, leaving Van with a loving peace and quiet as he navigated in the front seat. This left Shadow clunking along outside, peering suspiciously at his master and wondering what mind control spell he was under this time. The poor organoid felt justifiably confused at the situation (organoids never quite grasped the concept of humans being more vulnerable to persuasion when tired), and decided that he would have to find Ryss to exorcise him. Which led to Raven being abandoned by his trusty sidekick for an unknown reason, and being left behind with the person he hated most in the world.  
  
Needless to say, the results weren't pretty in the conventional sense.  
  
Therefore, it took Van forty-eight hours to remember to ask Raven exactly what he was doing wondering around in the desert with only an organoid and (currently decimated) missile gun for protection, and a further thirty-six hours for him to narrow the question down to: "Where's your Genobreaker?" It took another two days for his companion to actually answer, and only because Shadow had returned an hour beforehand. The organoid was considerably enlightened, though by what his partner did not know (or want to know), especially since he was now being sniggered at when he appeared not to be looking. Stupid lump of black metal must have contracted some tropical ghost and must be exorcised.  
  
The bonds of an organoid and his owner must never be underestimated.  
  
After whacking his poor, snickering organoid with a stick several times and thus curing the previously uncured laughter, Raven turned to aim a glare at his obliviously naive ex-enemy. He considered just ignoring the question as he had previously, but wondered if he could endure another few days being asked the same question over and over. Normally, he delighted in avoiding giving any actual useful answers to the fools interrogating him, but Van was no fool... of course, he'd only ever tell that if... THERE IS NO IF!  
  
"I don't want a Zoid that was given to me by Hiltz and Prozen. I'll go without if I have to." "So where is it then?" "Sold it." "You WHAT?!" "Two days ago, to some army base."  
  
Van moaned in exasperation. "You have the worst timing! Don't you know that there's a huge conspiracy to capture you taking place right this second? Possibly even this minute?! And you just sold the greatest defence in the world for a couple of bucks... how could you?" Shrug. "I needed money. And that piece of red junk was just sitting there-" "It's a bloody Genobreaker! What-" "Look, Flyheight, that thing was fucked up by Hiltz way before Zoideve. The only reason it could fight was because the damn statue decided it wanted a breath of fresh air, okay?"  
  
"... so, did you get another Zoid?" An annoyed glance. "All the other Zoids around are below my standard. There's no way I'm using some fourth-rate Zoid after the Genobreaker." "Which is a problem since you SOLD IT!" "It was my Zoid and I'll do what I like with it!": "Then don't blame me if you get caught by the GF!" "Fine!"  
  
Taking several deep breaths after his outburst, Raven moved forward and pushed the other pilot roughly to the side, earning a squawk of indignation. He smirked at that.  
  
"What are you doing?" "Since that scrappy excuse of a Zoid is apparently so important, I'm getting it back then, aren't I? And if you know what's good for you, you will not complain that this is stealing." "But... but-" "I don't want to hear it."  
  
After loudly declaring that he would either pilot a Zoid or walk, Raven found himself still in the back seat, sulking. It was a new emotion for the maverick, and certainly not one he enjoyed, though secretly he found it all intriguing. Why was it that this annoying little brat who was once his mortal enemy and (essentially) the focus of his villainous, homicidal life, could make him feel human? He suddenly wanted to talk! Say something, whine about his tragic childhood, about those bastards he'd worked with, about their organoids, their Zoids, their Zoidians... everything!  
  
With Ryss, he didn't have to talk. She was a psychopathic psychic, and thus knew everything before he had to say anything. Which was good. But now he was being forced to deal with Van Flyheight, who didn't even understand anything you said if you explained it in language used for three-year-olds. He wanted to keep his silence, but was finding it increasingly difficult to do so. He wanted to know things, like why Van was such an uptight idiot about everything while maintaining an infuriatingly casual outlook on life (the exact opposite of him), why his Liger was blue when his stupid organoid had been white (where is that thing right now anyway?), why his posse was missing (he finally tired of those idiots), and why the hell was he looking around so anxiously?! It was only two in the morning, for crying out...!  
  
An explosion rocked the canyon, sending boulders flying everywhere. The struck the hastily inacted shield of the Blade Liger, and were flung back with difficulty. Smoke covered the already distantly wan moon, smothering the Zoid in darkness. The Liger's pilot froze completely, even stopping his breathing. He nearly jumped out of his seatbelt when a finger tapped him impatiently.  
  
"Van, what the hell's wrong with you?" "It's... completely dark." Hiss of exasperation. "Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark." "It's not that! But I can't see anything now." Comprehension dawned, though Raven was not any happier for it. "You've never fought at night." "I have, just not when it's completely pitch dark!"  
  
His words were punctuated by more explosions that shook the Zoid. Wincing when his head struck the metallic side (weren't seatbelts designed to prevent these things?) Raven snarled irritably. "It's not much different from fighting in daylight." "For you maybe." "You're not deaf, you idiot... Listen!"  
  
If he closed his eyes, Van could hear the shifting of nearby stone even as missiles pummeled the shield. He couldn't figure out what Zoids there were though, or how many, or exactly where they were, or...  
  
"Guysack, directly behind!" An image appeared in his head: shiny blue-green armour, tail arched and ready to fire. His fingers reacted automatically; Liger shifted forward two steps and swung around, shooting and hitting the enemy Zoid's tail. A screech confirmed his shot was accurate.  
  
"Sloppy," commented Raven. "Command Wolf, attacking from directly above. Shadow!"  
  
He could feel the difference as Zoid and organoid merged. The gun pivoted and fired at the Command Wolf, piercing through the Zoid core effortlessly. Van moved Liger left, braced for impact, Raven calmly ordered, "Two Darkhorns charging from one o'clock and five o'clock. There's an Iron Kong two hundred metres away at six o'clock, with three Guysacks inbetween; its unprepared." "Right."  
  
He could hear them more clearly now, and interpret it better. Liger retreated three steps, then leapt forward and sprang. With the increased speed from its fusion with Shadow, it was able to easily pass over the Guysacks and dodge their bullets midair. He could hear the collision of the Darkhorns as he unleashed the twin blades, twitching once to dodge a fist, then a second time to correct his aim; the Iron Kong was beheaded. Landing and spinning, Liger charged through the Guysacks, then evaded the wreckage of the Dark Horns to plough through the final, unidentified Zoid.  
  
The dying screams of the Zaber Fang echoed through the canyon. Van listened, without feeling any remorse for the carnage he had just caused. They were bandits, and deserved to be punished. That was justice. It wasn't his fault his skill was superior to theirs... "Sloppy." "W-what?" "If you ever fought me in darkness such as this, you'd never stand a chance." "Hey, cut me some slack. This is a first time thing you know-" Somehow, he knew Raven was shaking his head. "No. You'll never understand it."  
  
The smoke cleared, to once again let the moon's grace fall upon them. Desolate hulls lay around them, their pilots crawling dazedly out from the wreckages. The maverick eyed them casually, then glared at Van. "What are you waiting for, these idiots to find some missile guns? We're going." "Hai."  
  
Liger sprinted away from it all, with a speed he'd never enjoyed before. The Zoid felt refreshed; it had learnt new techniques in this battle, and from now on would not need to rely on sight to function. It's current partner, the black organoid, was certainly different from the white one. Still, as he passed through the canyon at a personal best speed, he though that he could get used to this.  
  
Now if only his pilot could get used to the other boy as well...  
  
AN: Hmm... I really don't know what to do with this fic. It started off with an idea, then went to about four ideas, then I stopped work on it for so long that I forgot everything this began from. Meh. Not sure what to do... but at least now I know (vaguely) what'll happen in the next chapter (at least). But there are a few things I'd like to address first.  
  
Firstly the pairings. Canon-wise, it would be Van/Fiona and Raven/Ryss, but I don't like Fiona. She just... bugs me, that's all. I could also try to do a Van/Raven (see what reading too much shounen-ai does to you?) but I'm not sure. I mean, it definately could work here... what with the whole "I'm dumping my girlfriend to find this annoying hermit of a guy" thing Van's got going on... Would people really hate it if Raven can't make up his mind? Or maybe one of those things were there's definately some chemistry (in the figurative sense of the word) there but nothing ever results? Intelligent (:P) opinions on this would be good.  
  
Secondly, I don't really like Zeke. I find him sweet, but I don't like him. Maybe 'coz he's so loyal to Fiona and everything. Moonbay and Irvine are also not present. I don't dislike them, though they're not my favorite characters either. And since I've tried the whole 'Van has grown away from his former entourage' thing, I'm gonna stick with it. Anyways, Zeke Fiona Moonbay co. will probably make an obligatory cameo appearance or four somewhere down the track, but there's no immediate plans for them.  
  
Thirdly, I foresee complaints about my version of Van being OOC. That's he's not kind or sweet enough. But honestly people, this is a kid who doesn't hesitate to carve Zoids (with their pilots still in them) like cheese. From what I've seen of the show, there doesn't actually seem to be much evidence that Raven has killed in battle while Van has not. It's just that initially Van is such a crap pilot that he's having enough trouble staying alive, let alone killing someone else. And let's not forget that he tried to kill poor lil Raven, and didn't seem to really care afterwards. He's supposed to be twenty and an accomplished pilot now, so don't expect him to act like he's fourteen and an idiot.  
  
With those messages in mind, DON'T come here looking for a sweet Van/Fiona fic with a little Raven/Ryss as a sidedish, where they're surrounded by their loving friends, colleagues and Zoids and will probably live happily ever after. They have kids, and their Zoids will obligatorily evolve into Liger Zero and the Berserk Fury... NO. I'm not doing that, I hope no one expects that, I hope no one tells me they expect that... yeah.  
  
... I think I've alienated at least 85% of the CCGF Zoids fanfic world. -- Go me. 


	4. You're not authorised to do that

DISCLAIMER: I don't own ZOIDS!

**Chapter 4: You're not authorised to do that**

It was with an immense amount of mystification that Van wondered how exactly he went from cleaning Raven's grave to traveling with the maverick on a crazy mission to retrieve the latter's prized Genobreaker, in the space of less than one week. If he'd ever been impulsive before (or at least more so than usual), it was _nothing_ compared to this. Besides, he hadn't been so rash for quite a while. To return to that thoughtless way of life he used to lead was... exhilarating.

'Or at least educational,' he mused. After several encounters with various groups of bandits in trying situations, he would have been forced to admit (had he any previous doubt on the matter) that his former nemesis was truly the more advanced pilot. He could have managed on his own, even without an organoid, but Raven's ideas and skills were always better. Slightly more precise, slightly more cruel. Despite accepting that he was generally not the inexperienced rookie surviving via several successive miracles in battles anymore, Van was still not used to the idea of destroying an enemy with a single attack by destroying the Zoid core directly; he practised the technique extensively over several days, until he had more or less grasped the principle. Aim, wait, shoot. Ignore the death throes, then repeat as needed.

He never received an opinion from his companion unless it was to inform him of when a particular strike was not perfect. What Raven really thought of his successes beyond a judgmental level, he could not tell. Did his improving skills hint of a challenge to the maverick's crown as the greatest Zoid pilot alive, or did he never care about such a title? Was his aptitude for learning, fast, something that irritated the other pilot, or did it give him pride as a teacher? He could not tell from that cold, apathetic voice, always delivering instructions in a calm, though abusively arrogant tone that commanded attention.

The exception would be those few cryptic words at the end of that first battle in the canyon. At first, Van thought that he had received training for fighting without sight. He would have continued that assumption, had he not instinctively realised that battles of that type held a particular significance to Raven. It was another item to add to his list of "what I want to know about Raven but will probably never get to ask without being painfully killed". The list seemed to inexplicably expand everyday.

Currently though, he could feel those violet eyes watching him with a subtle curiousity. By now, Van had seen that look enough times to recognise it: Raven wanted to know what he was thinking, but did not want to ask. An interesting development on both fronts; he was learning to read the previously unfathomable psychopath, who actually showing something beyond boredom. In fact, it looked more like interest than disregard. He grinned, watching the slight reaction as one eyebrow quirked, then turned back to the road.

"Where did you say that warehouse was?"

Double blink, and a glance at the map. "Two kilometres south-west of here," was the cool reply. How did he make even a simple observation sound scathing? "If we continue at this pace, we'll be there in an hour."

"Should I go faster then?"

A shrug, before the grey-haired pilot turned to look out the cockpit, resuming his 'don't give a damn' demeanour. "Do what you like." He glanced back once.

Van smirked after catching the probing look, though he was careful to keep it hidden. "Sure."

After all, he wasn't quite _that_ certain about his companions pre-set reactions. Yet.

"Ojisan?" yelled Raven as he jumped out of the cockpit, instinctively sensing disaster. Seven steps and a sharp kick broke down the metal-and-wood door, and he rushed in, Van several steps behind. The latter blinked in the dark that seemed to have no effect on the other pilot, who was softly cursing somewhere in that impenetrable lack of illumination.

"Raven...?"

"Get the first aid kit from the cupboard, and bring water from the tank." Hesitation. "For god's sake, turn on the light if you have to, but hurry!"

Behind him the light flicked on with a growl, and he turned to see Shadow with his tail raised. The black organoid ignored him and stomped over to the closet, wrenching the lock off with his teeth and breaking Van's reverie. Not to be outdone, he raced to the stove, grabbed the nearest clean pot and filled it from the watertank stationed next to the sink. He carefully brought it over to Raven, who was busy tearing his uniform sleeves completely off from shoulder to wrist. The pallor of skin that had not seen sunlight for a decade shocked him, though it had no effect on the owner; _he_ was occupied with ripping off the armour plates and fashioning the cloths into suitable pads to stem a profusely bleeding head wound.

Though not particularly deep, the injury had been inflicted many hours ago, and the old man was completely unconscious as Raven professionally sponged away clotted blood and treated the cut with antiseptic and medicine from the kit before bandaging it properly. He checked the casualty's pulse and breathing, frowning at the high fever, then stood and hefted the bulky body easily over his shoulder, heading for a different room. Van followed, astonished at the display before him; never had he expected his former nemesis to act so... human, for lack of a better term.

Suddenly, he reproached himself severely for treating the guy as merely a difficult obstacle and 'probable cause of death' for the majority of their acquaintance. And he was supposed to be the hero... what a joke. If Raven hadn't been the one to help -albeit unwillingly- in the final battle, he would not have considered a friendship. He would have continued to see him as a rival to defeat in his bid for being the ultimate pilot, a stepping stone. No wonder he cut his foot.

"I think we can safely assume that the Genobreaker's gone."

"Huh... what?"

Raven raised an eyebrow. "Genobreaker. Taken."

"Who by?"

Shrug. "I'll ask once he's up." A thumb indicated the old man. "We need more medicine than we've got. Stay here. There're painkillers in my bags; if he wakes up before I return, get them and give him some. Boil some water too, and find a towel or something to sponge his head. Try to avoid the bandage."

"Where are you getting the medicine from?" he asked, slightly unnerved at the amount of trust placed on him to care for the casualty.

"There's a town three miles from here. I'll be back in an hour. Shadow, stay."

"Won't it be faster if you take your organoid with you?"

Huff of annoyance. "That bandaging doesn't have to be changed for two hours at least. I don't _need_ to go any faster."

He walked off before Van could ask anymore incessant questions, which was just as well; the other pilot had run out of any to ask. He glanced at the black organoid and asked, "Is he always like that?" The glowing blue eyes looked at him without expression, though he seemed to be considering the question. Or at least considering how to answer. Unlike with Zeke, Van couldn't hear Shadow's mental voice clearly, only a faint static that hid parts of thoughts. Still, this communication cleared a little everyday, appeasing any nostalgia he might have felt and allowing him to hope that soon they would be able to communicate fluently.

Until then, he had to be content with what looked like a Zoid's version of shaking his head, before the organoid stalked to the bed with the old man, standing vigil. Van was left with his own guilty musings once again, and he contemplated the horrible alternate universe where there had been no partnership between them, no escape from the destroyed Genosaurer for Raven, yet no conscience to plague him, the victor. A time and place where he would always be Van Flyheight: destroyer of the Deathsaurer, bringer of 'peace' through war, Raven's murderer, and the greatest hero of all time.

Despite once again sensing the aftermath of conflict, the maverick did not run back into the warehouse, choosing to balance the newly acquired supplies with care. After all, if he was correct -and in these matters he was rarely, if ever, wrong- they would be needed more than a display of unwarranted concern on his part. Instead, he walked in calmly and placed the medicine and food on a table, before wiping his forehead and peering around. He noted the holes in the wall, large enough to allow winds to pass through but not enough to threaten the building's stability (he'd fix them tomorrow); pots, dented but still usable (in a few minutes if he wanted to cook); shattered plates and mugs (...crap); Shadow's tail half off (I'll _kill_ them!); a bleeding and bruised Van knotting rope around several k.o.ed captives while loudly whetting a few particularly nasty kitchen knives a yard away from their broken noses (...?!).

The last observation left him quite speechless, watching the supposedly 'nice' pilot who still possessed some of his fourteen year old looks tie up his prisoners and prepare interrogation instruments like a pro. Though Raven would have liked to have claimed this vicious, sadistic streak as his doing, he knew it was not. Shaking his head, he walked over to eye his shorter companion critically. Van noticed his presence and almost shrank away, then meekly let him examine the cuts and bruising without a word.

This should have raised some suspicions, but Raven failed to acknowledge them. Whatever Van felt guilty about didn't matter as long as it wasn't life-threatening. He felt almost relieved that his hunch had been proven right, and that leaving both Shadow and Van to guard the place and its currently fragile owner hadn't been a mistake. Shadow was loyal, vicious, skilled; the other at least matched these qualities in his own, recklessly impulsive and illogical way. But the organoid was still a machine, and had trouble understanding anything human beyond his master's own thoughts and actions. Which was enough for him.

Absently he let a faint smile appear on his lips as he cleaned the injuries, not knowing that his actions were sending mixed (and well distorted) signals to the pilot he was treating. Normally so exacting on every tiny detail, he was letting his senses and instincts malfunction. Instincts were often just barriers, and he didn't need such complex defense systems now, did he? New bandages were wound tightly, and he tied them almost automatically, having done this for himself so often. From Van's subconscious reactions, he guessed that he had not been taken care of by someone else for a long time either. He half-nodded, slightly dazed, then retreated.

He looked at his own hands now, slightly stained but otherwise fine. Splashing off the crimson with water, he resolved to begin fixing the pots. But first, he would check on the warehouse owner. Opening the door just a little, he saw the man resting peacefully, and nodded in satisfaction. The events of the day had not disturbed him much, if he was able to sleep now. About to turn away, he stopped when he spotted the small glass bottle sitting on the bedside table. Opened, labelled and filled with a total of twenty-three tablets, exactly as he'd left it.

Guilty minds generally shied away from contact with the one they felt they had wronged; this was the case tonight. He had been too curious, looking through Raven's bag when the old man had indeed woken in agony . It was too personal, and his obsession (which he had grudgingly named as such after this incident) did not justify such actions in his code. If anything, it worked against him; someone as obsessed as he was should be locked away in a well padded cell, at least a few galaxies away from the object of such a... tainted, if anything emotion. Even _Liger_ disapproved, and the Zoid was hardly likely to understand the concept of privacy after displaying his insides so often to the pilot and whatever company he had.

What he had found was no less cryptic than the person himself. The bag was split into two compartments; the first was neat and contained clothes, toiletries and money. The pills were not there. In the other half however, was a second bag. Everything, literally everything in _that_ bag (including the leather of the bag itself) was in pieces. The photos, the map, the jewellery, the letters... the only thing that was somewhat whole was ironically a glass bottle filled of little white pastilles. He could have just gone then, but noooo... he'd been indiscreet enough to look through the shreds of everything else. Indiscreet, stupid, dishonest, low... completely and utterly intrigued.

There was no real map of Zi drawn by a professional cartographer who'd travelled the world; this was a child's map, marked out with crayon, a kid's skewed sense of distance and shape, and an ignorant's imagination of what the world looked like. Torn to confetti, then taped with painstaking care back together. The jewellery, bearing shiny red and purple stones, had once belonged to a woman. It was old now, the silver chain broken cruelly by something sharper and harder than it, and coated wholly by a dry, crimson substance he was only too familiar with. A watch, protective glass shattered and severed leather bearing claw and teeth marks, the hands perpetually set at 11:49 around the golden word _Rolex_. And the photos, all ripped neatly in sixteen parts. Ripped with the precision of an adult who knew what he wanted to do; the filthy fingerprints left on the corners were too big even for Raven's current hands...

He touched the bandages on his arms uncertainly, as he viewed the taller pilot pacing around the room; cleaning away the plates and mugs he and Shadow had failed to save; fixing the metal pots that had proved so valuable as ammunition; chopping then throwing various edible substances into the undamaged pots to cook soup; multi-tasking by pasting layers of newspapers over the holes in the walls while ignoring the WANTED posters and checking his food; glancing over at him oddly. Van had seen him look into the old man's room, then stop there for quite a few minutes. Was that about...?

Of course. He'd been delivering the pills to the owner, who had fallen asleep in the long wait, when the bandits had attacked. The bottle had been left on the desk, and he'd forgotten them. Raven would know; he always knew. Standing up stiffly, Van walked over to him to apologise. Perhaps it would be better to wait until he could at least run, but... no. It might be better if he just died now. Better than confessing to the maverick, who was now looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Breathing, too fast. Heartbeat, blur. Other major organs, working. Chances of actually dying now... none to slim. Crap.

"When I went to get the pills... from your bag... I..." A hand motion told him to continue, and he did, though his voice was no steadier or louder than before. "I... went through... everything else in... _that_ bag."

A long silence, too long for comfort. "You went through everything."

He nodded, and it was the most difficult thing he could remember doing. "The... photos, map, jewellery..."

"Everything."

Van recognised the instinctive anger, a preceding formality to a very harsh slap. But the contact never came, and he noticed instead nails digging into palm. The same palm, in fact, that he'd seen Raven staring at before. "Why do you keep doing that?" He clapped both hands to his mouth in horror.

"What?"

"Your..." Words failing, he pointed instead.

"You mean this?" Once again, that awful scar was displayed. A shiver went through him. "This, _Van_, is simply a little memoir of that battle we had, when you decided to destroy my Genosaurer by ripping it apart slowly from the outside, piece by piece. Is that the same thing you want to do to me, Van? Find out everything about me that you can through these little situations, working your way slowly to the core, where there's nothing left? Well _fuck you_."

The other hand -his left- was the one that struck, with the less yielding back. Not hard enough to loosen any part of his skeleton, just to sting. _Hard_. Raven grabbed one of the newly whetted knives and for a terrifying moment, Van thought he would be stabbed, but the edge was blunted instead on a large papaya, chopping the fruit into rough chunks as erratic as the photo shards he'd seen. Tired of this exercise, the furious maverick sank the knife three inches into the chopping board, then grabbed him by the collar. "You want to find out all the gory details of my life? You'll find out more than you want to know, and then some about your life as well. But not tonight. Because if I told you tonight, I _would_ kill you. Good night."

He stormed off, leaving Van shuddering in the kitchen, wondering how he'd managed to reach this point. Wanting to know the other pilot, wanting to know badly enough to _snoop_. A feeling of desperation seemed to overwhelm him; he'd managed to land himself into a situation where optimism, and believing that he could do something, were of no help. Wasn't that what led him to this mess in the first place? He thought he could understand Raven... funny. It would be so much better though, if he wasn't still just a damned puzzle, and not one that was easy to complete. He was more like several puzzles, where you have to sort them back into their 500 piece piles of 'past' first, then start putting them back together. All he'd managed to accomplish was add another pile to the first three, and mix it up further, to 'past', 'past', 'past', 'present'.

He eventually worked up the nerve to move, turning off the stove and pouring the soup into a bowl. His actions were mechanical; he ate without tasting, and cleaned everything. Only then did he dare pick up a piece of sliced papaya and put the sweet fruit into his mouth. His mind finally moved, as he realised that they didn't have papayas in Liger's supplies; he tasted blood after biting down too hard, but put the second piece in, choking mutely on the food purchased today, especially for him. Raven hated papayas.

AN: That was long, and really confusing. I think it's too soon for them to have a fight this big, but then again... when else? Is it less plausible than if they don't actually fight for ages, then have a really really big one? XX Tasukete?! (Help! --) For now though, I think I'll concentrate on this fic in fanfic world. So I'll hopefully have some sort of plot up and running... um, shortly. Please be patient...

Also, although all reviews are joyfully accepted (hey, even if they're flames, it means your 'writing has reached someone' :P) constructive criticism _that I can work with _is the best. So please, if you really want me to try and improve this fic, try and give a little more information than "this is bad", or "this is good". Thanks for those reviews anyways. Words simply cannot express how grateful I feel... that was not sarcasm.


	5. I am Van Flihite

AN: Why is this up here? Oh well. Sorry to those who wanted some major action... this is kinda another filler. But it does patch up a few holes from the last chapter that some of you guys pointed out, so its not entirely bad... besides, my chapters are kinda short (approx. 2000 words each) and I like focusing on char. development. Buuuttt, there WILL be action next chapter (promise), which will be out... hopefully soon. (Holidays coming up! )

Do I need more descriptions of places and battles? I realise that I've been skimping on these, mostly because I haven't watched as many episodes of ZOIDS (especially GF) as I'd like, because there seems to be some conspiracy against me. Either it's on when I'm at school, or my TV blows up (or at least blows a fuse) when I'm skipping school, or its on at 6am on Sat, or they take it off to put FUZORS on. I don't like that series. The pilots tarnish the memories of Raven and Van, and even Bit and Vega, who could actually pilot their Zoids properly. Blake and RD are idiots. They look cool, but they can't pilot for crap. Grrr...

DISCLAIMER: I don't own ZOIDS!

**Chapter 5: I am Van Flihite.**

Van was woken the next day by muffled curses; he glanced briefly at the two bandits he'd managed to capture, then towards the open bedroom door. Berating himself for falling asleep in a chair again, he walked over and looked in, seeing Raven talk softly to his newly awoken patient while changing the bandages yet again. He judged from the sluggish movements (which were still so much quicker and graceful than his own) that his companion was tired and had slept little the night before. Then he smacked himself in the forehead, loudly. It was these little observations that had annoyed the maverick so much the night before. He really didn't need to bring that up again.

The bloodshot violet eyes viewed him critically as he nervously shifted, wringing his hands together behind his back. He could pick out barely concealed irritation, anger and contempt, peeking out from behind a calmly cold expression.

"I um, just... wanted to... check up... on you..."

"Don't sneak around if you can't do it quietly," was the acidly snapped reply, lacking all of the indifferent pretences on Raven's face, before he turned back to the old man. The shoulders -which were still starkly visible where the black fabric had been torn away- tensed, and his actions acquired a slight, angry tremble.

"Yeah... um, sorry about...that... I'll just go... now..."

Not even receiving a sign of confirmation, he stepped out and ducked around the doorframe. Leaning back on the cold stone wall, he sniffed, then scolded himself for the second time in five minutes. So what he'd heard Raven just say was hurtful... so what? Didn't he deserve such for snooping? Surely he was lucky he didn't receive anything worse than a few harsh words...

_"Isn't that the kid who destroyed the Ultimate Deathsaurer... Lieutenant Van Flihite...?"_

_"He may be Lieutenant Flyheight to you, ji-chan, but he's no one to me. Nothing."_

"Nothing?" Van whispered, wanting to disbelieve but not succeeding. "Was I always nothing, when I couldn't fight you all those years back? The times I defeated you -though admittedly never without help- and all those oppurtunities you had to kill me but didn't? And these last few weeks... nothing?" He drew a long shuddering breath, and managed a painfully wry smile. "I'm being melodramatic; with other people, I'm everything: hero, idol, friend. But you, Ryss, Shadow..."

Noticing the organoid sitting there, watching him with disapproval but not resentment, he finally slid to the ground on his knees. The black Zoid walked over to him, watching with the fierce intelligence all the organoids seemed to emit, then growled in an almost gentle way. He tentatively reached out a shaking hand; Shadow let it stay on his icy metallic head for a moment, long enough to demonstrate acceptance, before shaking it away and stalking off to the bedroom. Again, as Van absently observed the oddly human-looking bandages adorning the broken tail, he could sense the organoid's intention to communicate with him.

Van would have really liked to tell him that the feeling was mutual.

The sniffling was driving him crazy. He knew he was the cause, and he wanted it to stop, _now_. But he wasn't prepared to actually go over and tell Van to shut up, as well as adding any more harsh words that happened to be on his mind. It was enough punishment for the sentimental pilot to feel guilty about what he'd done, though with logical hindsight, Raven could see that it wasn't entirely his fault. _He'd_ seen how curious his companion was about him and let it continue, even at times almost encouraging it. Then, he'd told him to get the pills himself, when he was well aware of what else was in that bag.

His own fault then, that those little pieces had been looked through. His own fault from the start. He shouldn't have opened up to Van at all. The instructions; the short random conversations; the questioning looks directed frequently from both sides. These would all have to stop, if he wanted to keep Van well away from him. That... was a big if.

Finally, the incessant sound from the other side of the wall stopped. The old man -whose hearing was nowhere near as sharp as his own- had not noticed the sound, having faded into a light slumber after swallowing two pills, bringing the bottle's total down to fifteen; two had been taken by the patient during the night, while he had gulped down a few himself. He'd need to get more soon.

"Shadow," he acknowledged. The organoid didn't respond, glaring at his owner uncharacteristically for a few moments before stomping loudly over to the bed. Raven disregarded the odd reactions, then listened to the muttered growls with growing irritation. He turned to his partner, and waited until the blue eyes moved to his own before haughtily speaking, with a good deal of annoyance.

"What's wrong?"

/What kind of IDIOT are you?!/

Something shattered at the shouted snarl, incomprehensible to all except Raven. He looked at the organoid with shock and confusion, then composed himself and coolly asked, "What do you mean, Shadow?"

/There was no need to do that to him./

"Sure there was. He snooped."

/_You_ encouraged it!/

"You're mistaken, Shadow. I did no such thing."

His partner gave a short, barked laugh. /Come off that, Reivun. Don't I know you better than anything? You want him to find out more about you, just as you want to find out more about him./

"Back off."

/Go and talk to him./

"Back. Off."

Satisfied that his insight had been successfully delivered, the organoid moved away, leaving his owner to chew on what he'd just conveyed.

He winced when a finger bled on the broken cup, trying to quickly clean up the mess before someone saw. Except that there wasn't anyone to see, except the four bandits he'd managed to keep from the battle yesterday, and had just woken up. He needed to interrogate them; ask what they wanted, where they were from, how long they'd been following him, that kind of thing. And he really couldn't be stuffed, at least until he moved all the little shards of porcelein into the bin. The clink of piece on piece hinted to him of metal on tiled floor, and prompted once again the memory of that sound he'd just heard.

_/...IDIOT.../_

He knew the feeling, could remember it so well despite not communicating mind to mind with an organoid for so long. '_Zeke_,' part of his mind whispered. 'You haven't talked with _Zeke_ for so long.' He dismissed the thought, instead preoccupied with the joy of finally, _finally_ understanding something Shadow had said. It didn't matter that it had been unintentional, or that it had been a mere word in a sentence; he had actually comprehended the black organoid. This was awesome.

Finishing with the useless crockery, he turned to the bandits who struggled in their rope bonds and hissed abuse at him. One hand pulled the newly sharpened knife out of its sheath, while the the other picked up a whetstone. He walked slowly over, holding their attention fully as he slowly brought forth his items, showing them off proudly to his captives. Perhaps it was the shining edge of the blade that stilled their movement, or perhaps it was the toothy smirk he'd sculpted onto his face. Flicking his tongue over the sharp canines, he summoned his spookiest voice.

"Good morning"

"What the hell do you want?" asked one of them, a feisty female who tried to glare. Cocooned as she was in twisted hemp, it was unconvincing.

"To play 20 questions, of course. But I'll only be asking five. You _will_ oblige?" he asked, not leaving room to argue as he started the game immediately. "What are you after?"

"None-" Her answer was overridden by the screech of knife blade on whetting stone.

"I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?"

"Don't say anything!" a different bandit commanded, jerking his bald head for emphasis. Van simply turned to the man coolly, and cocked his head in interest.

"You want to answer instead." The mockingly husky voice rang with the second scrape, spraying tiny grains of metal up into the defiant face. "Come now, don't be like that. Otherwise I'll have to invite my partner to ask. You don't want that; he's not too happy about you hitting his tail."

He reclined in a chair, casually placing the knife on the table and replacing it with a short metal pole that was twirled with a killer's ease, sadistically reminding the bandits of the battle. A battle which _they_ had lost, despite their superior forces and advanced weapons. Twenty bandits armed with guns had not withstood the assault of a single boy armed with a metal pole, a stack of plates, pots, mugs, and a black Zoid. The last they had laughed at. Such a tiny Zoid could not be piloted, and without a pilot, what good was the machine? But it had received their comments with a vicious glow of blue in its eyes that had warned, but was not heeded.

_Their_ mistake.

They had been shocked to find themselves under attack by seventy kilos of fast-moving sable metal, glowing a blinding blue as it tore through their ranks too quickly to follow, without direction from a pilot. Had they been mistaken then? To think of this Zoid as merely a remote-controlled toy? What the hell were they fighting? This was no mindless machine of a Zoid, but certainly no toy either. It was too powerful, more powerful than anything they'd ever faced before. Even the Zoids of the most powerful members of the Guardian Force were surely nothing compared to this... _thing_.

The bandits looked again at their adversary. This boy -who looked to be no older than sixteen to them- had been scarcely easier to combat. _He_ knew the element of surprise so well it could have been his twin. The ammunition had been thrown more to increase the confusion then to do any actual damage; that was the pole's job. The rounded length of metal, maybe a metre in length and sharp on one end, had gouged and struck wherever the Zoid had previously missed or neglected. Their sixteen companions had been downed instantly, and they had been knocked unconscious, though a few lucky hits had managed to scratch them a little. _He'd_ fought with a skill only their boss possessed, and even then, the old man would be hard-pressed to take this kid down.

They now wondered who the brat was, and feared to know.

"What was that thing?" A man who had yet to speak suddenly asked, then seemed to cringe at the vibration of his own voice. A raised eyebrow requested clarification, and he found himself elaborating, "That... black _thing_ that was fighting. It can't be a Zoid."

"_He_ is an organoid," replied Van, placing a casual emphasis on the last word, which was again used on the first word of the next. "Shadow, his name is."

"O-organoid?!"

Organoids were beings placed on a par with the recently departed Deathsaurer. Though the bandits knew little of the actual workings of the organoids, they did know that only the _very_ best pilots in the world could command them. Only the Guardian Force had a universally known organoid, a white organoid who had fought side by side with Van Flyheight in his battle against the Ultimate Deathsaurer. But Van Flyheight had quit the Guardian Force and left his partner behind, though he had kept his _Liger..._

"Y-y-you..." A horror spread over the bandits' faces, as they guessed who he was.

"Yeeesssss?"

"V-van Fl-fl-flih-hite!"

"That's my name," he confirmed sarcastically, wincing inwardly at the altered pronunciation as he bowed. Letting the smirk grow slightly, he prodded, "Now that that is cleared up, my questions...?"

He did not finish his sentence before the information came pouring out, each bandit desperate to get on the good side of the hero sitting in front of them. _He_ in turn acted the part of the idol, nodding at their answers as he recorded them mentally, occasionally pausing the babble to clear up a point. _He_ was charismatic, elegant, smart, powerful... everything a hero should be. At the end of it, he let them go after extracting a promise not to join another bandit gang. They agreed eagerly, and would comply; farming, peacekeeping or mechanics would be their new jobs. And so, the bandits rode away in their Zoids with a bright, lawful future ahead.

Van Flyheight watched them go, sickened to his core by the hero-worship that had allowed them to view his most sarcastic comments as heartfelt advice. At least he'd gotten what he'd needed from these idiots, though it was a high price to pay. Soon the whole country would know he was running around this part of the world with a black organoid. His friends would immediately figure out who he was with, and would either lament his shift in alliance or plan some elaborate rescue scheme.

He spat with disgust, then turned and walked back into the house. Suddenly, Van _wanted_ to see them all. Irvine, Moonbei, Fiona, Zeke, Rudolph, Dr. D, Thomas... he wanted them to see his new life. They might congratulate him, or more likely yell at him, but he wanted them to know. "Maybe after we get the Genobreaker back," he mused, feeling more optimistic. Okay, maybe Raven was still mad at him for snooping, and would never talk to him again, but they were both still here. Maybe Raven hadn't given up on him completely. Maybe...

"I'll make it up to you Raven."

AN2: Oh, another thing. I jump around with the spelling of Raven and Van's names. This is intentional. You're supposed to look at it in context. When Van's being hero-worshipped, he's got Flihite instead of Flyheight attached to his name. It's the manga's fault. As for Raven... if I say that its a major plot thing, I'd be lying. But I'm sure I'll think up a plausible reason somewhere along the way...

Review responses:

tYp0- I'm sorry that you might not agree with me if I do decide to do a Raven/Van pairing, though currently no pairing's on the agenda. Currently though, the only other suggestion I've had is Van/Ryss, and I have NO idea how to do that. Suggestions will be helpful. Van'll definately have a confrontation with his former pals, especially Fiona, since I want to shoot and bury the possibility of Van/Fiona in this fic. And I'm happy that you like maverick-mode Van. Two Ravens have gotta be better than one!

Taltos- Yeah, sorry about the whole choppy plot and no descriptions thingy. I'll try and do better. bows Though I really don't know what the landscape and things should look like, because I've really only seen maybe 15 episodes of CC/GF. I've only seen 1 episode of GF, and it was the last one. Like I said above, my TV blew a fuse, and my mum didn't fix it for a couple of months, even though she could in about 2min. XX So any factual inaccuracies would be because of that. Usually when I have to describe something I draw it, but I can't draw landscape. I like characters a lot better. 

Mercenary Pen- I'm so sorry that its yet another filler chapter! But hopefully it remedies the missing stuff from last chapter and has a LITTLE plot progression? And there WILL be definite plot progression next chapter, which WILL be out sometime soon. I think. I'm getting more into this story now, though I still haven't got a long term plot planned. Bear with me? Yeah... I hope I've improved the time flow and mentioning, though I may need to be reminded... thick skulll...

Hannah- Van finding out about Raven's past will be a combination of both snooping and telling, I suppose, especially if asking is counted as snooping. I'm sorry about the whole pairing thing, because I might decide to put shounen-ai in this, though you probably should be warned about the amount of shounen-ai or yaoi fanfiction, especially in anime and manga. If I write any pairing in this (which is starting to look more and more doubtful) I'll warn people beforehand, just in case.

wyrd- ...that is a long review that deserves an equally long reply. Unfortunately, I have parents. Anyway, I guess I should work on my plot flow better. I'll try. The gun thing is a bit odd, but considering that Raven could beat the hell out of Shadow when he was little, I don't think a inanimate metal gun stands a chance. Still, that was a bit odd, venturing more into humor/parody territory. It's my friend's fault, I swear! I think there would be something wrong with a completely mature Van or Raven, even if they're around 20 now. Besides, it's a little more amusing when they're still childishly fighting.

Drogan- short but sweet review. Thank you for it!


	6. I'm tired of fighting with you

AN: (&#(&$#!!!&!&!$&$)!!!$#)!!!

Um, yeah. That's kinda my reaction to the fact that I haven't been writing fanfiction for a couple of months. What can I say? I AM SO SORRY TO EVERYONE WHO'S ACTUALLY STILL EVEN SLIGHTLY INTERESTED IN THIS THING AND WOULD REALLY LIKE TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU ALL BUT THE CHANCES OF THAT ARE REALLY KIND OF SLIM ESPECIALLY SINCE THERE'S NO BLOODY WAY I CAN MAKE UP ABOUT THREE MONTHS OF WRITING IN A FEW WEEKS AND MAKE IT EVEN PARTIALLY DECENT!! xx

Um, so yeah. I'll just shut up now and let those of you still hanging in there read. I've made you wait long enough. bows and runs away

**Chapter 6: I'm tired of fighting with you**

If questioned on the matter, Van would have had to describe himself as 'compromising', after pretenses of not knowing the meaning of the word so that he could cleverly twist it to fit his purposes. This one time, however, he wondered if he was too clever, to land in such a situation as bestowed upon him. Okay, so he wanted to appease his justifiably cranky human companion (who had yet to forgive him for the previous intrusion), and obeying the maverick's every whim and command until he was back to his normal, stoic self was the option he'd selected. The other would have been to hide under a large mountain for a couple of centuries, but the first was a lot more practical. This though, was going _way_ too far.

...damn it!

He would have sworn a fortnight ago that the Blade Liger belonged to _him_, Van Flyheight, solely and eternally. _His_ loyal servant, _his_ trademark force of good , _his_ zoid. Only he, the (second) most skilled pilot in all of Zi, could command the obedience of the feared blue machine, with its clashing yellow blades, numerous guns and stunning maneuverability. Only he was _allowed_ to control it.

Of course, he had forgotten that he'd been travelling with the best pilot on the planet. No, it wasn't possible to forget, or disregard that fact... or was it? Spending so much time with Raven outside of the cockpit had changed his perception of him, from indestructible robot to equally-hard-to-destroy human. Someone who had obviously lived through a lot more than Van could imagine. Something painful enough for him to paradoxically work with zoids to blow them to extinction, though he didn't know what that was yet...

He winced as he trailed off _that_ path of thought. Raven obviously thought he knew enough, and that was (should be) the end of that. Right now, he had to concentrate on piloting the Pteras so that they could retrieve the Genobreaker as soon as possible, and thus permit him to retrieve his zoid legitimately from the clutches of his evil-inclined companion. Settling on that idea instead, he returned his view to the narrow canyon directly beneath.

His instructions had been to deal with the three groups of sentries guarding the door of the fortress. So far, he'd spotted seven guards on either side of the canyon, and another ten inside it, though he was unsure whether or not there would be sleepers hidden around in the numerous nooks and crannies of the place. After that was dealt with, he would have to battle with the reinforcements that were likely to engage him in combat, and stall for as long as possible. He'd been assured that there were no patrols around this place, though how his partner-in-crime knew this was beyond his current understanding. He would simply obey.

However, Raven hadn't bothered to mention how much, if any backup the Liger would provide him, though Shadow had elected to fuse with the Pteras after witnessing his lacking flight abilities. This had been adhered to, and the presence of the organoid was a reassuring factor. He was still not confidant about piloting the cursed bird zoid, and had the sneaking suspicion that if engaged in combat with another airborne unit, his skills would prove insufficient. Thankfully, there seemed to be no such opponents at that moment, though whether this luck would hold out was questionable.

"How about this," he yelled, not sure if Shadow could hear and understand him if he spoke normally. "You drive and I shoot?"

The answering growl was hardly helpful, but the sudden intentional turbulence as the flying zoid dived straight down served as a tangible agreement. Almost falling from his seat, Van quickly adjusted the main gun's aim and fired; he saw the bullet pierce the core of the Command Wolf from directly above. Rapid-fire brought down another three before a vertical barrel-roll messed up his aim. He predicted the second midair evasion better, and shot while spinning, striking one of the three remaining opponents in the leg. Another bullet brought the injured zoid down completely. The Pteras banked sharply from the dive to drag steel claws through the roof of another hapless zoid, tearing it in half as Van missiled a Guysack on the other side of the ravine.

Releasing the torn shell, they zipped past the last Command Wolf towards the next sentry, belly nearly scraping the ground; the black wolf zoid dodged off the side of the cliff and scrabbled with its claws. However, the target was another Guysack, who was prepared for the assault but not for its speed. Missing several times, the scorpion zoid flinched as its enemy blew past and severed the deadly tail., then pulled away, allowing the victim to be destroyed by its own team's fire. A quick twirl sent the winged unit sailing up two hundred metres, where it turned and shot three Guysacks.

A shot pierced the left wing of the Pteras, and it wavered. Van turned to see that the Command Wolf had managed to maintain a hold on the cliff, and reversed its gun to aim at him from behind. Irritated, he grabbed the controls and shifted his zoid's position, then fired; the enemy fell when the cliff edge was blasted away. He quickly spun around to deal with the incoming missiles of the Guysacks, and successfully dodged them all while firing his own, knocking down the remaining three easily.

His zoid was too injured to try anymore fast dives, but he could still hover and glide. How would he approach the last sentries in the gorge? He flew further away from the battlefield, then reversed his flight and dived down at an angle, gathering speed without placing unnecessary duress upon the wounded wing. He viewed the group of Iron Kongs slightly apprehensively; the thick armour would be difficult for this zoid's missiles to penetrate, and he'd been unable to attach a better gun without compromising the ability to fly with balance and coordination. A growl; Shadow disagreed with his point of view. He grinned to his new partner, and continued to move forward.

Shooting the Command Wolf off the side of the cliff had lost any surprise factor he had over those within the gorge, but he still managed to fire two shots before having to dodge. They hit the same place on the gorilla chest, cutting through the steel plate perfectly to destroy the zoid core. 'Nine more to go.' He checked the in-built timer, and noted that five minutes and thirty-eight seconds had elapsed since he'd shot the first enemy. Shouldn't the sleepers and reinforcements have arrived by now?

A familiar roar sounded above the canyon, and he looked up, to see a black and blue sky covering the canyon. Red stars glinted down at him, almost blocking out all the sun. He could hear clicking, snarls, and howling, the sounds reverberating through the slot in the ground and shaking boulders from their homes. Van dodged them but never stopped watching what else was above him, grimly prepared for the massacre that would accompany this trip. He swore.

_"First on the agenda is capturing Raven. They'll be deploying 50 Shield Ligers, 60 Command Wolves, 100 Godos and 150 Guysacks."_

...that looked about right.

The echoing of a particularly vigorous battle some distance away was only slightly distracting to Raven as he crept through the shadows towards the fortress' back door, which was also its loading bay. He was more concerned with the horde of zoids charging out of said bay, through a conveniently large door. Sirens were ringing throughout the building, out of which poured black Command Wolves, teal Guysacks, black and white Godos and blue Shield Ligers.

Perfect.

He really shouldn't keep counting on the enemy's stupidity to pull through ridiculously outnumbered battles, but why abandon such an effective strategy? He was more or less one hundred percent certain that none of the idiots around would be able to tell the difference between a Shield Liger and a Blade Liger, despite about a hundred alterations he could point out, starting with the fact that the latter was leaner, meaner, and a _lot_ faster than your average unevolved tiger/lion hybrid.

Then of course, there was also the fact that a twenty-year-old Raven would choose to pilot nothing less than an evolved zoid of the Blade Liger's standard. Which was _high_. The Liger was one of the best, though not quite adhering to his general style of "BANG BANG! YOU'RE ALL DEAD... BWAHAHAHAHA!" It _did_ suit his slighter, sneakier former arch nemesis though, and after a few minutes of internal observation he was much better informed about how this zoid was able to destroy the more megalomaniacal types of its species (a.k.a. those of the Geno or Death families) and escape as unscathed as possible.

Being obsessively pedantic about which zoids he piloted had given the maverick a connoisseur's appreciation of the finer ones available to him. And this Liger was one _hell_ of a piece of art.

The roller doors were falling back down as the last enemy zoids left the building. A command had the Blade Liger lunging forward, covering the three hundred metres in a white smudge and tucking into a dive beneath the metal just before it slammed down. The entrance was perhaps a little over-dramatic, but no less so than the graceful jump to all fours. The surprise of amateur pilots who'd never seen such skill masked the fact that this wasn't one of their own even more so than the blue Liger shell, and the pair sprinted away with satisfied grins.

The sixth sense (instinct and logic) dictated where they searched; the Genobreaker was especially eager to see its master and rival again, and the intelligence residue left over from the occupation of an organoid was far from passive. Besides, there was only one pathway large enough for a zoid, and there was hardly any choice but to follow it. They ricocheted through the corridors, oblivious to the various traps and alarms they were inconsistently triggering in the process. It barely mattered anyway; their speed ensured that only one in six snares or sirens were tripped, and that none of them actually made an impact.

Seven turns, eighty-three slabs of concrete serving as walls and a couple of perplexed guards later, they entered a darkened room the size of a zoid storage area. Raven looked around at his surroundings with the contemplation one usually gives to a possibly dangerous, slightly murderous looking room that did _not_ look right. The fancy drapes over no windows may have alluded to that fact, as could have the shiny titan's chair and excessively plush red carpet leading to it. 'Throne room? Who the hell gave themselves airs...'

_Click._

'...and imagined themself as a king?!'

Cursing the sudden brightness, he glared at the offending zoid that now inhabitated the ridiculously big chair. It was a customised, pure white Iron Kong, larger in size than the originals and much more ornate. Silver runes and scripts curled around the zoid's limbs in some sort of flowing pattern. Spiked knuckles covered the fist, promising extra damage to any who tried to oppose. A gold emblem was painted carefully over the gorilla's chest, and the intelligent eyes turned to see the intruder.

'...apparently, an emperor did.'

"R-Raven?! What are you doing here?" asked the monarch's voice. The head of the young man popped up on his screen, expression greatly surprised and only slightly suspicious. The Iron Kong stepped forward, though the fist remained down. "Where's Van?"

"Oh shit!" Too late, he busted the intercom in a hurry, by slamming a hand down on several different buttons. The entire screen went dark, and he oathed again.

"Raven?" Puzzlement now at why the Blade Liger's eyes changed to black, and another step.

"Your majesty, stop!" A window opened on the Iron Kong's screen.

"General, what-"

"Men! Arrest this felon!"

Breathing a sigh of relief as a few random buttons put him back online, Raven blinked. A few dozen or so zoids had materialised in the room, forming a solid line between him and the throne as the door behind him crunched sickeningly into the marble floor, trapping him in the room. The only way out was... well there was no way out. Blocked in quite nicely by closed stone walls on all four sides, as well as marble beneath him and what appeared to be part of the cliff above. He grimaced and looked around.

A few dozen guns were all aimed for him, cocked and ready to blow to smithereens. That was okay, he could handle that. They also seemed to be waiting to drag him out of the cockpit afterwards and tear him up with bare, filthy hands, regardless of the fact that he was a piece of world history. That was sort of alright as well. Even the fact that they were attempting to capture and kill him with their superior numbers strategy and a bunch of fifth-rate machines could be overlooked; it was not like this group could actually use anything better. Yes, that was fine.

But the cannon aimed at him was _not_. There was no way some eighth-rate 'pilot' was commanding _that_ cannon, controlling the proud and fierce beast that bore the steel's dead weight. The red dinosaur, that glorious (though falling apart when it had pawned) machine of death and destruction, was not covered with the newly instated and poorly designed symbol of the Guardian Force (a tacky G and F mashed together in an attempt to intertwine), was not emblazoned with Guardian Force slogans and propaganda.

And below all this feeling of nausea was the guilt of betrayal. It was all his fault.

'Oh hell.'

AN2: That was... really bad. Sigh I'm such a let down, and deserve to be flamed. Please. To those of you who've waited all these months expecting a good piece of writing...

I'm so sorry.

I've written about half of the next chapter, so that'll probably be up soon. The double cliffie will be resolved, so that's something to see. However, on Wednesday I'll be taking an extended holiday (5 weeks), and will have little to no access to computer or internet. That's sort of why I rushed this and the next chapter out, despite work experience cutting off my time even more... gomen nasai. Bring on the flames people! I can take it! Improve my writing and story with your scalding comments! Anything worth considering will be! (However, I do know that 'oathed' is not a word. Please humour me as I try to reform the English language.)

Future of this piece... does it have a future? Hmm... I'd like to finish writing it first, so that those dying to know the story can. Then I might take a break and either kill off or finish my other multi-chaptered fics. A few one-shots dotted randomly, maybe. And then, I'll revise this thing and do things such as condense chapters, add in scenery, cut out the random OOC parts and smooth out plot holes and the like. Because I want everyone who reads this after its finished to see and understand why you people actually bothered to review this story.

Thank you guys so much.

-AlienYak

P.S. If any of you are happy with me updating (even though the quality's seriously below par) please find some way to thank wyrd. This person's (sorry, I don't know your gender) quick reminding note a week or two ago prompted me on the facts that I have a fic to write, and people to try and satisfy.

Review responses:

Mercenary Pen: You're probably my harshest critic, and the one i'm most scared of disappointing, but that's a good thing. The interrogation... I realise that I skimped on it. Actually I kind of skimped a lot of that chapter, seeing as I was on a high from finishing the previous chapter, and wanted the next one UP. Somehow, I don't think you'll be pleased by this and the next one that I'm posting, but I tried.

Taltos: Another one I'm really scared to disappoint, though not just because your standards are high. I feel bad because you're so nice too, and thank you for your help on the scenery description. I sorta skimped again though...

wryd: Yes, thank you so much for giving me a nice virtual wake up call. Greatly needed and appreciated. I suppose my version of Van is sort of schizo and psycho... is that bad? One bandit, two bandits, multiply to... four.? Oops? I'm not really used to putting heaps of spaces on computer. I think it comes from writing on paper... I'm kinda stingy. -- And yes, Shadow's smart. Coz he ain't human!

nightfighter642: No van/fiona! Why? Because I don't like Fiona, and I'm not that fond of Zeke either. And I doubt that Van could really settle with either of them considering the monster that I've changed him into. But I guess Raven/Ryss is sort of already set, even though I don't think Raven's the sort who'd want to settle with _anyone_. And I don't think the Sarah and Vega (Raven and Ryss' descendants) vs. Bit (Van and Fiona's descendant) argument can really work, considering that it's 300 hundred years later. There'd have to be a hell of a lot of incest on both sides for _that _to work out.


	7. I don't hate you anymore

AN: Phew. Finished this one as well. That's all there'll be for at least the next five or six weeks, I'm afraid. I started Chapter 8 though, so there _shouldn't _be a three month delay. _Should_. Not. Hope this'll feed anyone who's starving for more of this story. I haven't had time to read anyone's reviews yet, so if there are any (I don't deserve them) I obviously can't reply, and I'm afraid if you had any major criticisms, I couldn't heed them.

Read.

**Chapter 7: I don't hate you anymore**

Palpable quiet choked the air of the throne room as the Blade Liger stared down its opponents, seething in its power to freeze sound. Outside, it held no power; though muffled, the sounds of battle could be heard through rock and concrete. For a moment, Raven forgot his own predicament to wonder how Van was faring. Judging by the continuing intensity of the fight, he guessed that the annoying brunette was doing quite well. He paused, before muttering, 'Good.' It _was_ good that the decoy was still working, allowing him to rescue his zoid without interruption. After that...

"General, what is the meaning of this?" demanded Rudolph, turning in the direction of the Genobreaker. His expression on the intercom was tight, withholding anger.

"This is the capture of the war-criminal Raevin, your majesty," replied the addressed. From voice, the topic of discussion determined that this man was young and confidant, and an amateur.

"Who ordered this mission? For I assume it would not be you, _General_." Hefty pause. "You would not otherwise have the nerve to arrest a man on acquitted charges."

"It... was the order of the Guardian Force's distinguished leaders, your majesty."

"Then I will have to contact them, to inform them of their mistake."

"But your majesty! This is a dangerous criminal, one responsible for the deaths of many-"

"As are most of those who served with skill during the war," rebutted the emperor, tone slightly weary.

"Surely your majesty does not think to shelter this felon from justice!"

"Raven is a citizen of Guygalos; as Emperor, I am obliged to protect the interests of Guygalos against all unjust treatment, whether by the Guardian Force, Republic, a third party, or by my own."

A long, hesitant break. For a moment, Raven hoped that it would be the end of the matter. Then the Genobreaker turned to him and clamped down the foot-lock. "I'm afraid that I will have to override your request, your majesty. This criminal must be apprehended at all costs."

"You are on imperial territory, General. This insult will not go unheeded."

"The orders of the Guardian Force are supreme."

Another window appeared, showing the identity of the amateur general. He was young by military standards, maybe twenty-five. There was little knowledge of battle visible in that face... some high-ranking official's son then. A little hatred and anger, though Raven was certain that he'd never encountered this particular pilot before. Revenge? For the father, he supposed. He adopted the usual "what the hell do you want" maverick attitude for the benefit of his enemy; he had to leave a good impression before they died.

"Surrender, villain, or prepare to be annihilated." The cannon was beginning to gather up charged particles, blindingly bright. Most looked away; Raven did not.

A contemptuous smirk formed. "By who?"

"I am the General of the Guardian Force-"

"Only because of your father, correct?"

He flushed, having been hit on a nerve. "I have served the Guardian Force for the past five years, you scum. I achieved this position through merit-"

"And you've been in battle how many times?"

"... If you refuse to surrender, then I will have no choice but to apprehend you through force."

"Go ahead then," jeered the maverick. "Fire that cannon at me, if you think _that'll_ work."

"You asked for it then!"

It wasn't often that Raven had a charged particle beam fired at him, but he'd seen it happen to Van many times. Okay, afflicted it on Van many times, and he knew all of the Liger's counter moves. He could shield himself, leap out of the way, or cut straight through. Since he wanted to get out as soon as possible, and did not want to total his own zoid, he chose the central option: dodge. A sideways jump took him from the beam's path, and the zoid landed lightly on all fours, then sprung forward. Bullets flew.

He shot down seven zoids while pounding forward, and then pounced at the Genobreaker. Now the shield came up, ramming the dinosaur zoid backwards through three of its teammates and ending at the back wall, not far from the Iron Kong. Just as abruptly, the ward was released exchanged for blades, and he happily diced through another six zoids whilst evading enemy bullets. Clever maneuvering brought down a good deal more by friendly fire, and some more slashes cut down the number of the enemy to less than a third of their original strength.

The remaining few were scared to fire, having seen the way their colleagues had been brought down by their own bullets. Hell they were even scared to move. Raven took a pause, glad that travelling with Van and not piloting for a the past two weeks hadn't blunted his ability. With that confirmed, he launched forward to destroy the last batch of enemy zoids with an array of attacks. Slice, pounce, slam, kick, lash... he chopped steadily through the ranks of the enemy, keeping the habit of decimation.

The last machine fell to a single bullet, and he heaved a sigh. He stopped though, remembering the Iron Kong, and looked at the gorilla zoid; it hadn't moved. Having shut down all connections before fighting, Raven reopened them again, in order to communicate to the emperor. It took a moment to process, before Rudolph's face reappeared upon the screen. The former soldier waited.

"Impressive as usual, Raven."

"Aren't you going to scold me for destroying all these zoids?" he asked incredulously.

"You were merely performing a soldier's duty to protect his emperor."

"I wasn't-"

"Please accompany me from this base."

Originally protesting, the maverick found himself unable to when the Iron Kong turned and picked up the Genobreaker with his fist, holding it clear of the ground and walking forward. Deciding that shooting the emperor who'd defended him against the Guardian Force would be both stupid and ungracious, he merely followed through the sizable hole made in the wall by the charged particle cannon. The fact that the Genobreaker had helped him even when under the enemy's control amused him.

"I was invited by the General to visit this base a few days ago," mused Rudolph. "It is a fairly new base, one of the first that I've allowed to be built on Imperial territory in this area. I'd suspected that allowing the Guardian Force to exert that amount of power here as well as in the Republic would be a grave mistake, but I'd hoped otherwise."

"You were thinking of the Guardian Force from before the Ultimate Deathsaurer."

"I was. Something will have to be done."

They exited the building from a door that he'd failed to notice on the way in, and found themselves before a giant flight of stairs carved into the cliff's face. A small contingent of Imperial zoids rushed forward to greet their emperor, glancing at the Blade Liger curiously. Whatever orders Rudolph issued to them was not heard by Raven, though some of the pilots jumped from their cockpits as the Genobreaker was lowered. The hatch was opened, and an unconscious burden was lifted out, then carried away to a different zoid.

"General Hather has made it his personal mission to capture you."

"What'd I do this time?" he asked with a roll of the eyes.

Wry smile. "Leave his father alive after one of your thousands of destructive zoid battles. A humiliating experience for the old man, I'm sure."

A rarely seen expression covered Raven's face, one that was thoughtful without being sad or vengeful. "I hated zoids, not the people piloting them."

"Hat_ed_?"

"Don't misunderstand, brat," snapped the maverick, slightly annoyed at the almost smug expression. "I've simply killed the ones that I've hated the most."

"The Blade Liger doesn't look dead to me."

Raven looked away. "Maybe I don't want to destroy this zoid anymore."

The emperor raised an eyebrow, and was cut off when an tremor shook the entire cliff ferociously. Most of the zoids present fell to the side, with the exception of the heavy Iron Kong, foot-locked Genobreaker, and balanced Blade Liger. Smoke billowed from not so far away, and the sounds of crashes almost drowned out all sound. Even so, the emperor had to shout to ask "What was that?"

One step ahead of him, Raven tried to establish a connection again, and failed. He looked up to the emperor's face before him, and whispered one word. Then he ran, leading the other zoids towards the source of the explosion.

The sides of the canyon were packed several kilometres each way, and he could only go up. To his left were a solid pile of active Iron Kongs, and above was an army of Command Wolves, Shield Ligers, Godos and Guysacks. The only thing he needed was a Gojulas to complete the set, and then he'd have a fully-spent Republican defense budget about to roll over and squash him. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, but even a lack of sight could do little to humour him; his ears were still functioning.

No panicking, only a great sense of seriously impending trouble. He could handle a couple of bandits. Heck, he could handle a couple of dozen bandits. Squadrons were no problem. Three or four squadrons were alright too. A Deathsaurer, or Ultimate Deathsaurer, sure. But there was no way on the moons for him to take on literally hundreds of zoids. So what if he was the (second) best pilot on the planet? He was not the one skilled in mass murder; he was the one in a wounded zoid stuck at the bottom of a metaphorical bottle with the lid shut ajar, taunting him. He could _not_ get out.

With that settled, he dived up. What the hell, if he was going to die, he might as well do so with a nice big explosion, right? He supposed that this was what he got for continuing his fighting lifestyle, so he might as well continue along that path. It was all he could do anyway. He checked how much ammo he had left, and ran a digital scan over the condition of his Pteras. A calculation had him bagging maybe twenty zoids directly before he died. Any more than that would be a unexpected bonus, or luck.

By now, he was on complete auto-pilot. His hands were moving the controls, not his brain, and he didn't need to see to judge exactly how his bullets would be fired, and received. The paths of the missiles aiming for him were also clearly mapped out in his mind, as was the escape path through the net. The lack of concentration freed his mind up, to ponder over exactly how he entered this situation. Outside, the battle was truly commencing, with projectiles exchanged from both sides; inside, it was ignored.

_The Iron Kongs had been a sort of decoy, to mask the fact that the rest of the patrols around this place were Republican zoids. Of course, this did not make him feel any less stupid; just because someone set up an elaborate trap didn't mean he had to fall into it. It did make him glad for a moment that Raven was piloting the Liger, not this junk of a bird zoid instead. At least he would be the one copping the blows. But then again..._

_Raven. He'd been the one to demand control of the Blade Liger, a zoid that he hated more than anything else in the world apart from its pilot. Had he guessed that something like this might happen? Of course, Raven had said that he'd sold the Genobreaker to a military base, but he'd withheld specifics. But if that was the case, why had Raven gone to that remote little building to retrieve his Genobreaker?_

_The deliberate lack of business details suddenly sickened Van, more so than the vertigo he experienced. The Pteras was corkscrewing up at a pace too fast for the injured zoid to handle without major repercussions, but right now he was beyond caring. Not when they were all going to die now, because his "partner" had neglected to mention quite a few things that very well could kill him. Was this the perfect revenge then? Was this what had been planned all along? _

_It was impossible to hold a grudge that long._

"KUSO!" he yelled, frustrated rather than angry, as an unpredicted missile plunged into the belly of his zoid. They lost altitude, and Van adjusted the descent and changed his targets. How many zoids had already died, in those few minutes he stopped caring, stopped counting? He careened past the two remaining Iron Kongs, clipping one on the chin and shooting the other. What had happened to the others then? They hadn't been part of his kamikaze plan...

_HE wouldn't hold that grudge, not after everything that's happened._

The cliff sides, already weakened from having to support an army of zoids, had collapsed after being riddled with bullets, bringing down much of the army both above and below. Not his fault then, though effective nevertheless. But he was finished, and he knew that, by the way the zoid was taking longer and longer to respond, and the way each pebble and shard seemed to break another crucial part, bringing up alert after alert after alert...

_But they all warned him against Raven... was there something that he couldn't see?_

A fist, full steel and very solid, caught the wing of the drifting zoid and smashed, kneading steel into rock. More of the cliff fell, bringing down more combatants, but he could not give up. The bolts of electricity shooting up and through sleeved arms was bad, but being hit by an organoid-powered charged particle beam was worse. Much worse. Van could feel the metal cage around him disintegrate slowly from the pressure and heat applied by the gorilla. Still, he stubbornly clung to the controls of the zoid, scanning the controls to see what options he had left. He could not give up.

_He was proving them wrong._

"Shadow, get out." His voice was hoarse, wrong. There was almost nothing left, almost. But he still had something he had to do, as long as that almost didn't disappear.

_Ironically, he wouldn't die from a flying zoid that fell._

_He_ wanted to stay, wanted to drag Van out of the dying zoid and to safety. But what the reckless pilot wanted couldn't work if the organoid remained. He yelled the command again, and again, almost screaming at Shadow. Finally, the order was reluctantly obeyed, and blue lightning shot from the shell to safety.

_Ironically, he believed that Raven had succeeded in killing him the one time he hadn't meant it._

The explosion of self-destruction tore through the canyon, splintering the Iron Kong. The remaining cliff sides caved, bringing down fresh corpses and shoring up the tomb securely. Shadow watched the fire from the wreck spread along rock, humanly wondering whether this was fate, karma, or sheer idiocy. Then he flew down to search for survivors... because there were always survivors.

Always.


	8. Didn't think I'd see you again

AN: This is only a two and a half month delay, not three months! ...but yes, I realise that that's still pretty bad. But yeah. Um, lets see, how should I distract you all from my laziness and procrastination? I know, I had a holiday in China! And bought a model of the Genobreaker and built it! hugs it and ignores sharp edges Damn, that thing has a lot of guns! And saw the last episode of Zoids Fuzors. Sighs That was a series that had so much potential! Cool looking characters, interesting end music... I liked the ending though... shounen-ai gears whirling But yeah, otherwise, the whole thing was a let down.

I also started school. BUT, its as boring as ever. So yeah. But I'm getting a new computer in the next few days, and hoping things don't get lost in the transition.

I think this story's about halfway through. The whole 'getting-back-the-genobreaker' thing was the first part, now the second part is 'using-the-genobreaker'. To do what, I hear you ask (hallucinating) WHAT ELSE DO YOU DO WITH A GENOBREAKER?

coughs Now, being the observant person that I am, I only recently noted the disappearance of my scene seperating asterisks. I still haven't figured out the page divider thing yet, though thankfully this chapter's just one long scene. watches people run off in fear. Um, I think I'll just shut up now before I scare more people off.

**Chapter 8: I didn't think I'd ever see you again**

The room was one big source of visual pain, white and bright and shining and... was that a monitor? Wow... funny jumping green signals. Hmm, why'd they stop just then? Couldn't be helped, he shrugged, before closing his eyes again and sleeping. But there was someone shaking him, with a sense of urgency that the pilot just couldn't understand. He was tired but happily nestled under a stack of blankets in a relatively safe place, with no zoids around for him to worry about. There was really no reason to keep him up...

He jerked up when the someone slapped him.

Apparently this was not the greatest idea, since the room proceeded to run his head around in uneven squares for the next few minutes, but the action seemed to be of solace to the person who'd woken him; he was now being crunched in a hug. It was not so much the force of the embrace that hurt him as the sharp edges digging into his chest and back for the few seconds that the gesture lasted. He heard muttered words somewhere in the background before the weight lifted, then pushed him back onto the bed. What the hell?

"You can go back to sleep now."

Anything he wanted to protest died when he promptly and unconsciously obeyed.

Waking up the second time was less of a hassle. He looked up at the overhead lamps, cringed and mewled in pain, then turned to the side and rubbed his tearing eyes. Taking a brief scan around the room to add to his knowledge of the surroundings, he noted that the furnishings were boring, plain and monotonous, but far from minimal or cheap. Pleased -as long as he wouldn't have to pay for the accommodation later on- he nodded once in satisfaction, winced, and curled back in preparation for another nap.

Then flew up for the second time that he remembered, and stared at the grey-haired pilot sitting on the other end of the bed, absently fiddling with a delicate zoid part.

"H-how...?"

The memories of where he'd been before _this_ place chose that moment to jump him, providing visual imagery along with the snippets of information. The canyon, the army, the red button... should have equated to him being dead, and resting in the court of the underworld. But unless the underworld looked like a hospital, he was not yet on the other side. Meaning that _he_ was still alive.

'I've finally surpassed him at something,' he mused dryly. 'I survived a zoid totalisation without an organoid. For that, I deserve congratulations.'

The clunk of metal at his feet pulled him from his thoughts, and he stared down at the gleeful blue eyes of one black, homicidal organoid, bouncing up and down while wagging his tail, as though waiting to be petted. Van chuckled, then placed a hand gingerly on the zoid's head and scratched the metal. A low growling sounded, similar to that of any other domestic animal when being petted. For a moment, he was startled, then laughed out loud; the idea of Shadow being _domestic_ was funny. It would only be surpassed by the idea of _Raven_ being nice, and not the psychopathic bastard that he was...

The possibility was scary, and just... _impossible_. Especially judging by the 'what the hell did you do to corrupt my evil organoid' glare being directed his way. No, Raven was pure, 100 irredeemably mean. And cranky. And in need of a haircut (it was already way past its normal length), a tan, and sleep. _Lots_ of the last. Those black rings were very gothic by now, indicating maybe a week's absence of vital shuteye necessary for a normal person to function. In fact...!

How long had he been out?

"Vaaaaaannnnnnnn!" A blue blur screeched into the room, the noise loud and obnoxious and very intimidating. The addressed pilot cringed as he was suddenly swept up into a hug by one really enthusiastic female Zoidian wearing a multi-buckled dress. Choking for air, he pushed her away rudely and sucked in too much, worsening his problem. A hand thwacked his back as though he was a drum; when he finally recovered, a glare was sent over. It was met by poorly feigned innocence broken by the mischief from pale green eyes.

"What the heck was that for, you crazy witch?"

"But Van-sama," she blinked at him, tears filling her eyes in an instant. "You've woken up for the first time in a month... I've been so worried about you..." Sniffle. "I was so _scared_ that you'd died, and it was all my fault-"

"Wha... whaaaat?"

"My fault, because I didn't _get there on time_-"

"Shut up, Ryss."

The gritted out command was followed closely by the metal part, which was dutifully dodged. Recovering from the attack, the blue-haired Zoidian gave Van a wink, before going over to harass the other pilot. As a whispered argument punctuated with gestures thrown by both sides, the casualty turned to look down at the organoid still purring under his hand and asked, "Why's Ryss acting all weird?"

/She considers you part of the family now./ A long pause. /Welcome back, by the way./

"I guess you also consider me part of _the family_ now, huh?" Van asked, when he finally recalled how to reply to strange comments from zoids who shouldn't be able to talk to him.

/You've been a part of it for a long time. Just couldn't figure out how to talk to you. Stupid human./

"Um... okay. Does Raven know about this?"

Growl hybrid with laughter. /It's a two against one situation, even if he doesn't agree./

"But the other organoid-"

/Is completely obedient to the wishes of her mistress. So I guess three against one for us then./

"...I see."

He returned to watching the fighting couple, observing their interactions with just a tiny bit of envy. Damn it, they looked so perfect! And there was a perfect background story to boot: the Zoidian and the pilot, both outcasts determined to serve their own interests, yet somehow finding an understanding between them.. It naturally reminded him of his own Zoidian and pilot story, and how things _hadn't_ lasted. His fault, wasn't it? His fault that he couldn't be satisfied with his ideal lifestyle: money, fame, a nice girl, a job. So what had he missed? He sighed; a reunion with the Guardian Force anyday now seemed inevitable. He'd better have a plausible explanation to give to Fiona by then.

/Humans/ grumbled Shadow as he crawled up onto the bed, mindful of its current inhabitant. /Always so clingy, and making funny noises when they're at it too.../

Van coughed; he really hadn't needed to know that. "They seem happy though."

/Raven never _happy_./

"Sure he is. Look at him now, he looks like his having fun-"

/No. He's never... _happy_./ The organoid seemed frustrated. /Only when he's fighting does he happy. But looks wrong then./

"Looks wrong? What do you...?"

/_This_./ The zoid proceeded to give a very scary version of a grin, baring his teeth wide open as his jaws pulled as far up as they could.

"You're saying that he never smiles like he means it, even when with Ryss," the pilot whispered, finally understanding what Shadow meant. Of course the organoid would have problems differentiating emotions and the actions used to express them, thus getting the emotion of joy and the action of smiling mixed up. He thought about it for a moment, then protested "But that's not right-"

The sound of the door opening, while not loud, was enough to halt all movement and speech in the room. The four of them turned to the small contingent of soldiers who marched in and split to two sides, to make way for a single figure walking through, followed by a blue organoid that Van assumed had been on sentry duty. The dark purple colours bewildered him for a moment, before he excitedly yelled out "Rudolph! You came to visit! I mean..." He quailed slightly from the menacing guard who were now glaring at him and hastily amended, "Your majesty."

"It's okay, Van," replied the emperor, trying not to snicker in front of his own men. He turned around to them and quietly ordered, "Please remain outside unless I call you."

The eight or so soldiers bowed and exited, while the blue organoid took the oppurtunity to bound over to her mistress. Once the room had been cleared, Rudolph looked back to the bed and said, "I'm glad that you've recovered, my friend. And it seems that your search was not in vain." He acknowledged Raven and Ryss; the former bowed stiffly to his monarch while Ryss curtsied more gracefully. "I am pleased to see that you two are well, and not dead as was originally assumed, though I suppose I should have believed Van when he told me you weren't _that_ easy to kill."

"My reputation is well known, your majesty," the maverick replied, wry.

The emperor nodded solemnly, and pulled over a stool to sit on. Plopping his face in both hands, he sighed aloud before declaring, "This is going to be a bureaucratic nightmare."

An eyebrow raised from Raven, while his former nemesis looked confused. The former answered, "Ryss and I can be gone from here by tomorrow morning, or sooner if necessary."

"What-"

"Not fast enough," Rudolph frustratedly replied. "I've delayed it for as long as possible, but leading personnel from Guardian Force Headquarters should be here by tonight. I'm not sure who leaked it, but news of your reappearance has already reached them, and they'll be suspicious if the Genobreaker is gone."

"Raven and I can use the Blade Liger and my Gunsniper to leave," suggested Ryss.

"Hey-"

"They somehow know that Van is also here, so if the Blade Liger's gone they'll also be suspicious," the emperor explained.

"I'll take a different zoid then," Raven rebutted.

"No, no! If they know that Van and the Genobreaker are both here, then chances are they already know -or have figured out- that you'll be here as well."

"What-"

"You're the emperor, can't you do something about it?"

"I can stand against the demands of the Guardian Force, which is why it'll be a bureaucratic nightmare. This is why I insisted on official records listing you as dead."

"Damn Guardian Force, always-"

"WOULD SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON!"

They all stared at Van, who was shaking and pale from the effort needed to be noticed. Seeing that he had their attention, he added, "You guys could at least have the courtesy to tell me what day it is and where I am and explain what all this weird stuff about the Guardian Force is after I wake up alive after expecting to be dead-"

"You were dead," Raven cut in coldly.

"Yeah, well who's fault was that?" asked the irate invalid, ignoring the barely visible flinch from the other pilot. He looked at Rudolph imploringly. "Tell me what's going on."

The young ruler sighed again. "Shadow found you lodged under a slab of rock that had angled between you and the zoid you were piloting, protecting you from most of the damage. For some reason, your shoe was missing... care to explain that?"

"I... got my foot stuck in the door of the cockpit when I was trying to get out, and tripped," Van admitted with a blush. He tuned out the snort of derision.

"You tripped." A pause. "Anyway, probably because you are one lucky pilot, tripping saved your life. Judging by the wreckage, if you'd jumped straight down, you would have been skewered by falling zoids parts. As it was, you fell at an angle and a good side of the cliff fell above you."

"...I think I'm confused."

"Well, that's just what the experts say," Rudolph grumbled crossly. "So you can stop looking at me so strangely. Anyway, Shadow brought you back up to the surface, and we took you to the nearest base for treatment. That was about a month ago."

"A month!"

"Yes. Originally, we honestly thought that you were going to die. But then you stabilised, enough so that we could bring you to the capital. So here we are, in my private hospital in Guygalos."

"So I'm in Guygalos, a month from that battle," summarised Van.

"Yes. You had broken ribs, broken legs, broken arms... your head survived, which only goes to prove that you _are_ hardheaded." Rudolph smiled at the indignant squawk. "Plus you had too many cuts and piercings for me to list. But now, most things are healed, though you shouldn't move around for a quite while, maybe another month or so. And definately no piloting!"

"I second that!" declared Ryss chirpily, walking over. "It was hard enough keeping you alive the first time around. I don't want to do that again."

The injured pilot stared at her in confusion. The emperor clarified, "Ryss appeared almost immediately after we took you to the military base. I'm not sure what she did, as it involved lots of bugs crawling around the room, but she did speed up the healing process enough for you to survive."

"Wow really?" exclaimed Van, receiving a nod. He rubbed his head sheepishly. "Well... thanks."

"Not a problem. A friend of Raven's-" she ducked the glare, "-is a friend of mine. I'm nowhere as good at healing as that blonde counterpart of mine -no instant healing here- but I know enough. And I probably couldn't do anything if you weren't such a Zoids' fanatic. I swear you pilots are born with electric circuits in you. Or it could just be all the merging with organoids thing. Either way, I'm glad that you're alive."

"Thanks," he replied, still overwhelmed slightly by this strange, new Ryss. "But what's going on with the Guardian Force?"

She frowned. "Like I told you, they want to capture Raven for the glory. Somehow, they found out that he was at that army base. Probably an insider or something... I didn't get a chance to check. That's another reason why your emperor here was so keen to bring you to this hospital."

"I don't follow."

"He was trying to delay Guardian Force people who wanted to _visit_ you. Since you're now in the palace, it'll take more than a basic visa to get in here. Add a few issues with the system, and he managed to delay them for a month. Unfortunately, he couldn't hold them off any longer than that. So there're some coming tonight."

"What'll they do to you and Raven?"

"I should be fine, because they don't know that I'm here. I think. But they'll pressure the Empire to hand Raven over. The Guardian Force is very powerful now, and refusing could be enough to trigger a war. I know that some higher ups in the Republic wouldn't mind increasing their territory."

"But the President-" Van protested.

"Retired last year, and her son refused the post. There's a new president now."

A long silence followed as he allowed all the information to sink in. He then turned to Rudolph. "So the Guardian Force people are coming today."

"Yes."

"Can I be discharged before then? I really don't want to refuse to rejoin another hundred times."

The emperor looked troubled. "I don't think that's possible..."

"Huh? Why?"

Rudolph got up and paced for well over five minutes, while Van stared. Then he finally sat back down and sighed for the third time that afternoon, before finally saying, "Because... Fiona, Moonbei and Irvine are the ones coming to see you tonight."


	9. What I think about you

**Chapter 9: What I think about you**

For the moment it was peaceful, though even _he_ wasn't naïve (or optimistic) enough to believe that it would all last. Just as the end to the Civil War had only resulted in a temporary truce before Prozen tried to kill them all, and destroying the Deathsaurer the first time around had only managed to achieve four years of peace before Hiltz decided to try again and the white-haired bastard he served had decided to re-establish his existence. Of course, there was also the time before he had a zoid at all, spent running on a motorised board from the various forces he'd encountered, as well as before he could remember, when his own dad was blown to smithereens. Now, add this, and anyone would have to admit that Van Flyheight, brown-haired black-eyed zoid pilot, had led a pretty hectic twenty years of life.

Well, except maybe someone whose life was probably just that little bit more traumatic. _Not_ that he cared to know or anything…

He was sitting on the bed cross-legged, hand absently patting the top of Shadow's head while the organoid growled softly. Plans of escape were still reeling through his head –some of them the most inventive that he'd ever though up– though they had all been dismissed by either Raven, Ryss or Rudolph. Damn them, damn them all for not waking him up sooner so that he could sneak away quietly, so that he would not have to receive a thrashing from Moonbei, jibes from Irvine and those sweet, calculating eyes of Fiona. And what if Thomas was there? It was a plausible thought, since the mechanics genius was smitten with the blonde Zoidian. He would not get away with leaving her so easily.

And Fiona? What would she _say_? That girl was not innocent, anymore than he was. No one should be able to announce and implement the sacrifice of all the zoids –and Zoidians– on the planet so calmly. At least, not a normal eighteen-year-old girl with ninety-five percent of her memories missing. But she had, and it had prompted him to re-evaluate what he thought he knew about her, though it probably wasn't fair to her. Alisi Lynette… Fiona's other half. The zoidian who'd lived and made mistakes so long ago, with the power to destroy or save the world. Or at least to destroy his life. If she'd finished the job properly at Zoideve…

Well. He'd be heartbroken, and wouldn't have any of the current problems he faced. Crap.

Flopping down backwards into a soft mattress, he covered a hand with one arm. This was too much trouble, and he didn't want it just after he'd woken up. Well, hell, he didn't want it any time, but right now was too much to bear. Really. He was tired from the effort of breaking a coma, he was sore from surviving his zoid exploding, he was edgy from not moving for a month, and why didn't the accursed _imperial_ hospital have a slice of fresh papaya for him to eat? Even smell… he would make do with only smelling it for now, as long as there was some.

The bed sunk and squeaked when a pile of metal put it's head on, nuzzling his hand. A sneeze; Van looked over in surprise. Sure, the bandages were covered in powder, but he didn't think that organoids could sneeze, or at least be affected. He chuckled at the sight of the huge black zoid pawing at his muzzle, vainly attempting to rid himself of the white coating while worsening the effect on his nose. Shadow kept on sneezing, and the pilot kept on laughing, until the human at least regained some self control and wiped sable clean with one sleeve. Sensing the smugness radiating from that stack of steel, he realised that he was /happy/ now, twice over.

The organoid deserved a pat on the back. He got one on the wings instead.

When his palm moved over one of the sharper joints in the zoid, he found himself thinking back to the first time he'd woken up, and the feel of metal pressing into him. "Shadow? The first time I woke up… what happened?"

/Your circuits blew and stopped./

"My… okay." He was still getting his head around the whole emotionally-inept organoid thing. Did he have this much trouble with Zeke before? He couldn't even remember now, though he was sure he hadn't. Maybe it was just because the black zoid had been traveling with someone as expressive as a cliff face that was about to be smashed. Less, even. "You mean my heart stopped."

A look of consideration. /If that's what you call it. Then they started again, and you went back to sleep./

"I remember getting hit in the face–"

/To restart your… heart./

"Well, I suppose that's justified then," commented Van wryly, rubbing his abused cheek. Was that a bruise swelling up? Some hit. "Who was it that hit me anyway? I have to return the favour sometime."

/…/

"You? Ryss? Rudolph?" The organoid looked away and pretended to whistle instead of replying. "Surely not–"

"Van-sama, the Guardian Force delegation is awaiting your arrival," announced a guard from outside, conveniently sparing the zoid from answering. Sighing, the pilot shot him a scary look that read 'I'll get you later, Shaaaadddddooooww!' before creakily standing. Looking down at the hospital clothes in resignation, he didn't notice the pile of metal scurry away through the door. He stretched and made for the door, only to find it opened before he could touch the door knob. Stifling a sound of surprise, he stared at the black-lined violet eyes until a pile of clothes were shoved into his face. The door slammed in his face.

He blinked confusedly for a minute, before the second prompting of the guard woke him up. With a smile, he rid himself of the pinstriped pajamas and pulled on the familiar uniform, then stepped outside. He felt ready to face _anything_ now.

**ZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDS**

"Don't look so anxious, Fiona," coaxed Moonbei as they waited in the lavish chambers the zoidian had been given. Silky golden curtains floating over giant leafy ferns placed in the limelight, complementing artistic paintings set in ebony frames that matched the rest of the uber-stylish furniture, including a king-sized bed lavishly adorned with all the goods… Had she been younger, the money-loving transporter would have squealed. That little brat of an emperor really knew how to please a girl (woman). Lucky she'd let him keep his ring then, eh? Otherwise, he'd never be able to afford this level of luxury for his honoured guests, and she would never have made it to the privilege of being treated by a monarch.

But it obviously hadn't made an impact on her companion, who was staring morosely at her glove-covered hands. Once again, the former transporter tried to cheer her up. "It's alright. He's just a little derailed right now, nothing a good talking-to won't fix. Stop worrying so much."

"No, it's not alright," replied Fiona softly. "He destroyed over 300 of the Guardian Force's new zooids, as well as destroying the base they were guarding. That's not the Van that I know."

"I was wondering about that myself," commented Moonbei thoughtfully. "Why were there that many zoids around just one new base? If the GF have that many to use on the one base, why not split some off to other bases in areas where bandits have practically taken over?"

"Oh… that." Looking to the side, the zoidian said, "I think it's so that the new base could be properly established. Besides that, they might have had news on the Genobreaker's whereabouts, and felt the need to be cautious. Obviously, it was justified."

"Well, when you put it that way I suppose you can't call it overkill."

"No, you can't. Raven's proven that he's just as ruthless as ever. We can't relax yet."

"I thought that he'd change and all, after everything everyone's been through," Moonbei sighed. "He did help Van break through the Deathsaurer's shield."

"We've only Van's word for that."

"You don't think that he'd lie for _him_, do you? I mean, this is Raven that we're talking about. Those two aren't exactly the best of pals."

Fiona sighed. "After everything that's happened, I don't know what to think anymore."

Evidently, the blonde had sunk into thought again. Sighing, Moonbei glared at the door and said, "You can stop eavesdropping and come in now."

The door opened, and her on-off boyfriend walked in, wearing a white shirt and black jeans and a bored expression, not at all abashed that he'd been caught. The eye-patch swiveled to focus on the zoidian, though his voice gave no indication that he noticed her state. "You ready to go yet?"

"Geez, Irvine. Give us a few more minutes, will ya?" She gestured to a subdued Fiona. "She's not exactly happy with Van."

"Neither am I," retorted Irvine. "I'm definitely planning to give him a piece of my mind, then hunt down that bastard Raven and give him another."

"Stop acting all tough, you'll get yourself hurt," scoffed the transporter. "Raven's not to be messed with while we're here on visa. Besides, I think that _you'd_ be the one to sport the black eye and bandages."

"You trying to say something, Moonbei?" Before she could answer, he sighed, "I know, I know. We're here on official business and you don't want your paycheck messed up."

"Damn straight." She smiled at him though, ruining her uncaring façade.

"I just don't get it. Why would Van spend two years looking for someone who tried to kill him so many times?" He sat down and folded his arms, frowning.

"Maybe he really is a masochist at heart," suggested Moonbei half-jokingly, though she sobered when he shot her an unamused look. "Why didn't Raven ever kill Van? That's one thing I don't think I'll ever know."

"It wasn't for lack of trying."

"Wasn't it?" She stood up and paced. "The first time we met… you saw how fast he went through those Godos. With Van's piloting skills then, it would have been simple. And the second time, he just left without finishing the job. Ever wonder about that?"

It was obvious from the look on his face that he didn't want to think of those incidents, and she didn't blame him; Irvine was a proud man, and never liked to think of the few times he'd been defeated. It was a pride that she didn't have (running away from a battle she couldn't win wasn't something to be ashamed of). Still, she could also see that he was pondering the question now, and grinned to herself. For all of his annoying quirks, sometimes she really wanted to marry him.

"There is no why." Fiona had stood up and was looking at her, in a cold way that she'd never adopted before. Her hands were clenched, her face tight. They both looked at her, slightly shocked by the way she was acting.

"I was just wondering–"

"There is no why. Raven may not have managed to kill Van, but he tried, didn't he? All those times, Van only just managed to stay alive… I don't get it!" She was quiet and furious and still, making no move to release her anger through a punch or shout. "Why would anyone want to stay with a murderer? Why would anyone value life so little as to try to find and help a murderer?"

"Fiona…" She couldn't think of anything to say to placate the zoidian; her words would achieve the opposite. Pleadingly she looked at Irvine, who nodded to her subtly.

"Not everyone's like you, Fiona."

"He _was_."

"And isn't now." In the background, Moonbei smacked her head in exasperation: that was not comforting. He ignored her and continued, "People change. Talk to him, and see what he's like now. If it's just a temporary thing, you might be able to change him back."

"You sound like you've already accepted him as he is now," whispered the blonde, eyes watering slightly at the edges. She bit her bottom lip.

"Not yet, I haven't," protested Irvine. "That's why we're going to see if we can pound –or in your case, talk– some sense into that little idiot." He stood up lazily. "Come on, I think we've kept them waiting long enough."

"Right," agreed Moonbei exuberantly.

A moment later, Fiona nodded. "Zeke, come." The organoid slid itself out from under the bed where he had been sleeping, and walked over. His red eyes glinted with anticipation as he growled softly, before loyally following his owner out the door. They had work to do.

AN: One month! Yeah!

Sorry, this chapter's kind of short, and a filler to boot, and I still don't think I've got the page divider thing working, so it might be confusing... BUT, the next chapter will be the clash between old Van and new Van that some of you have been waiting for. Drum roll, before it breaks. Oops. And I've already started writing it, so let's see if I can get it out within a fortnight.

...I really shouldn't have told you that. Now I have a deadline to meet. Oh well.

Review responses:

nightfighter642: Sorry, you still can't convince me to make it a Van/Fiona (sheepish) I have to admit, after watching a few of the earlier episodes that yes, they do make a cute pairing, but… I dunno. Though if you keep trying, I can't guarantee that I won't crack _some_…

wyrd: China was good, the Genobreaker better. Alright, so that isn't completely true. They were both good, except the no internet/computer thing. I'm glad that I still have some shred of humour that school hasn't robbed me of. Sorry that this is just a filler, kind of halfway down the cliff. But yes, the next chapter WILL see them smashing into the ground. Figuratively. Though I can't promise that another cliff isn't just waiting for them…

Taltos: Will there or will there not be a love triangle? Hmm… You like my Rudolph? I like my Rudolph too. Not that I can say that I dislike the canon-Rudolph, since I don't actually know that much about him, but I thought he was pretty alright in the last episode. I think he's fourteen then, so he'd be around sixteen now. Well, he is now. As for Thomas… is he GF or Imperial Army? I was originally going to drag him along, but then Karl would have to tag along, which isn't a bad thing (hell no!), it just complicates things. But if you really want, Thomas will appear. Just not now.

Red Baroness: You probably didn't notice my story because I don't update nearly enough. What is it about my older Rudolph that compels people to like him? Hmm… I guess I'll have to give him a bigger role, ne?

Missy Kitten: Spell things right… I try. Though I go by the English version of things, so that may account for some of the "mistakes". The others are probably just plain laziness and flippancy, or me just trying to ruin the English language.

Yarrie: … there's no need to be violent, you know. Bribery is received a LOT better than threats. Anyways, here it is.

Peter Kim: Interesting points you've got there. By sheer force, naturally the Guardian Force don't stand a chance. It remains to be seen whether a) such force will be necessary and b) whether Van will actually agree to using such an amount. Sorry, I'm not going to say anymore than that right now.


	10. What do I have to say to make you unders...

AN: First of all, sorry for the long wait, especially since so many of you reviewed so nicely and promptly as well. Thank you for your patience and restraint (from throwing various dangerous, possibly inflammable/radioactive goods).

However, this chapter is around a total of 4000 words, which is quite longer than the original chapters. Hopefully, that is enough to excuse my lateness, especially since a longer chapter was mysteriously much harder to write than a short one. I was actually going to try for 8000 words, but decided that a) that was pushing the word limit a bit and b) you'd all waited long enough. Maybe at a time when I can get 8000 words written in a month.

Also, I've changed the formating of the text a bit, so that speech is better seperated. I hate doing that on paper, but it looked good on someone else's fanfic, so I'm trying it out. But please, pass your opinions along. Should I go back to the original formating? Aim to write 4000 word chapters and take longer or 2000 word drabbles and write faster?

P.S I reached 50 reviews!

**Chapter 10: What do I have to say to make you understand?**

Pacing, pacing, pacing. He'd already circled thirty times, NOT that he was counting, or had the wits to count at this very stage in time. Every detail of his surroundings had been noted, from the large, mahogany-framed emerald silk-curtained windows affording elegant views of the royal garden to the soft, chocolate and cream patterned carpet that was slowly staining mud-brown under his feet. Or maybe that patch was part of the original design? Van hoped so, because he was sure he could not afford to pay for the dry-cleaning of such expensive furnishings, though if you asked him to give a rough estimate of his bank account at that time, he would have untactfully told you to buzz off. Because at that moment in time, he was shaking with anticipation, could not feel his tingling hands and feet, and really couldn't think at all.

He hadn't even walked through the door.

"Do I have to throw you in?" asked Rudolph, amused and ever so slightly bewildered that the fearless pilot was quite ashen as he skirted around the door that'd been indicated to him. He received a very nasty look for the inquiry.

"Try it and die, midget."

An eyebrow raised delicately at the growled comment; the emperor was almost as tall as Van was now. "You're only going to get kicked if you stay out here any longer," he replied, using his best I'm-the-almighty-monarch-who's-bored tone. "Moonbei especially won't appreciate you wasting her time."

"Damn money-grabbing transporter." A long sigh. "I'm ready now."

"Have fun."

Shooting his friend an evil glare for that last muttered comment, he took a hold of the doorknob, and pushed, eyes averted to the ground as he braced for an attack. When he was spared any form of pain for a few minutes, he gingerly looked up to receive a solid punch where his nose, eyebrows and forehead intersected. Rubbing the spot furiously as he sized his opponent up, he settled for grumbling, "What the hell was that for, Moonbei?"

After all, he really didn't want to face this opponent head on.

"You're ten minutes late!" she declared emphatically, many gold-plated rings flashing as she bent over slightly to wag her finger in his face, the other hand fisted over a linen-clad hip. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head and laughed, while noting that Moonbei towered ten centimetres over him when wearing heeled sandals. He noted that her wide-collared dress, a shade darker than desert sand and split high to her hips, was expensive and possibly new, as were the tight black shorts and broad leather belt she wore. Playfully, he tugged on one of her braids.

"You spent all this money on new clothes just so you could see me? I'm touched."

"Idiot," laughed the stingy transporter, waving his hand away. "I'm in official business in a palace, so I have to look good. Not like Irvine over there, looking like a scruffy old dog."

Her boyfriend's eyebrow twitched. "I shaved this morning," he drawled, not moving from his position against a desk. Same old Irvine, mused Van, trying to look completely disinterested by crossing his arms and leaning on the nearest piece of furniture able to support his six foot frame. The Lightning Saix pilot looked at him with a calculatingly face for a moment, then lazily said, "Long time no see."

"It hasn't been that long… has it?"

"Two years," was the easy reply. "A decent amount of time. I hope you've been practising with your Blade Liger, because I want a good match out of you later." The tone was a promise, not a request.

"Sure." The shorter man was enthusiastic about the challenge. "I've improved heaps lately, so I wanna see if the leading members of the Guardian Force are up to scratch. Not that you'll ever win against a distinguished hero such as myself, of course-"

"Don't get cocky!" yelled Moonbei as she got in on the mood, evidently forgetting all earlier promises of beating sense into her friend short friend. "You might have been good once, but two years without decent practice has gotta have blunted your edge. Even if you use Zeke-"

"I don't need an organoid anymore."

A silence fell in the room, as Van realised his blunder and winced. He finally thought to look past Moonbei and Irvine, to be confronted by a pair of hurt red eyes. Taking a half step back, he was still trying to think of a good way to recover when Moonbei proceeded to drag Irvine from the room, loudly declaring that they would explore the palace and stretch their legs for a while, and possibly hunt down some snacks before dinner. He noted their exit woodenly, and watched the door slam shut loudly.

Outside, Moonbei promptly lectured her boyfriend on the evils of eavesdropping, before pushing him off in a random direction with commands to amuse himself. He grunted at her and muttered something about preparing his Saix before slouching off, hands in pockets. Making sure he was out of sight before pressing her ear to the wood, she threw threatening gestures at the longhaired teenager staring at her, as if daring him to reveal her presence. She then concentrated on the conversation about to take place in the room she'd just left; if Van hurt Fiona, she would kill him. That was a promise she would not forget.

_**ZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDS**_

"So… um…" Turning, he awkwardly asked, "How've you been, Fiona?"

From what he could see, she had been doing well. Wearing a dark rose silk dress with red velvet inlays, belted with white leather matched by long cream gloves, she had obviously amassed a fortune, to be able to afford such expensive cloth and make. Height elevated by heels, she stood at a solid five foot five, a perfect two inches shorter than him. Her hair had remained the same, but her face showed more grandeur and age than he was used to seeing. Briefly, he wondered how much of the sweet, clueless girl had been taken over by the zoidian, but quickly destroyed the thought. It didn't matter.

It shouldn't matter.

"I've been fine," the blonde replied, in that soft, uncertain voice he was used to. "Except… it hasn't been the same since you left."

"Oh. Sorry about that."

With a sigh, she indicated a chair and sat neatly in one of her own. Metal thunked as Zeke moved up to her hand, staring without end at the human as he settled in the proffered chair. Eventually, his former owner returned the look, though his was slightly apologetic; while hoping that the organoid hadn't heard his previous comment, he also acknowledged that it was improbable. Hands fidgeting nervously, he took constant glances at Fiona, wondering how to reboot their lapsed pretense of conversation.

She asked him about his travels in the last two years, and he felt himself relax as he playfully related anecdotes, somehow finding humour in everything from shopkeeper's mullets to the poor skills of various bandits he'd encountered and the properties of sand that'd heated under 47 degrees Celsius temperatures. For an hour and a half, he talked, while Fiona listened with smiles, nods and giggles. Many times she looked as though she planned to interrupt, but she didn't, only asking for further elaboration or clarification on some points when Van was too brief or excitedly incoherent.

Some time during a rather enthusiastic recollection of the time he bought fifty varieties of papaya, only to find that they had simply been painted different colours by the fraudulent shopkeeper, Fiona quipped with the ever-reliable "Was there a flying variety?" and they both broke into laughter, joined in their mirth by one white organoid who was rolling on the floor by this stage. There was a hint of nostalgia in their joy though, and they all sobered quicker than they might of in other circumstances. Discourse was at an end for the moment, and a slightly intimidating silence settled. Zeke moved over to thrust his head under Van's hand; surprised at first, he stroked the metal gently with a smile.

"Why didn't you ask us to come with you?"

He looked up her and grimaced slightly; he'd hoped to procrastinate that question further. "I thought that you wouldn't approve of what I was doing. It wouldn't be fair to pull you into something you disagreed with. Besides, you were needed in the GF, especially after the whole Ultimate Deathsaurer mess."

She seemed almost amused at his answer. "How long did you think to come up with that?"

"What do you mean? It's what I thought from the start."

"It's very logical for you, Van. Does that sound like you?" She fiddled with her hands absently. "You're right though, I wouldn't have –and still don't– approve of your actions for the past two years. You say that the Guardian Force needed me, but they needed you more. You are a hero, something that still amazes me sometimes, when I think about it. How many people can claim to know such a being?" A gentle, wondering smile covered her face as she looked at him, making him almost liquidise.

"I'm sorry Fiona, really. But… I really am only good for fighting. There was nothing left for me to do with the GF anymore, and there isn't exactly much point in a peacekeeping force if there isn't anybody stirring up trouble. Anything else–"

"That isn't true. Many of soldiers retired after surviving Zoideve, having tired of fighting and risking their lives. We let them go, knowing that such sentiments were justified. Your mere existence inspired so many young, talented potential pilots to apply to the Guardian Force. In such a situation, we had a shortage of qualified personnel to teach. You would've made a wonderful professor."

"Maybe," he grinned, though he was not happy at the prospect. There was probably a sense of achievement gained through teaching, though hardly one of adventure. Especially if he was stuck teaching a bunch of the pilots he'd encountered in recent years. There really were no good pilots left at the Guardian Force, were there? No wonder they were so desperate for him to rejoin…

"You should still consider it."

"I will," he promised, standing to stretch. "Um… are you free tomorrow evening? I was thinking of maybe some dinner, or something. Unless you're busy, which you probably are, being top GF and all–"

"I'd love to, Van," she answered, finally sounding like herself instead of a telemarketer. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, and smiled contentedly at the offer.

"Great! Well, it would be if I knew where the he-heck I could find a nice restaurant, and check my bank account, and maybe find some decent clothes to wear…"

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Van," laughed Fiona. "Somehow, it always is if you're around."

"Right. I'll pick you up here at seven then." He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh yeah, is Irvine free tomorrow morning? I'm really looking forward to a match with him."

"I'm sure he is."

"I'll see him here tomorrow at ten then. Right now, I'm going to get some training done. See ya!"

He left the room and walked down two corridors before stopping to rest against a wall, breathing hard. Overall, he was pleased. That had gone a lot better than he'd expected. Now… he just had to figure out where he was.

_**ZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDS**_

Moonbei wandered the palace cheerfully, noting and drooling over the various expensive, luxurious and downright extravagant furnishings. Her mind was rolling away, summing up a total of how much such trimmings would cost if applied to her own humbler abode, while cheekily wondering if anyone would notice if a certain vase/plant/curtain/chair was missing. A more responsible part of her mind was yelling at her for abandoning her post, but after half an hour of mindless (albeit interesting) drabble she was all out of patience. Besides, it didn't sound as though those two would get into a fight anytime soon, not that they ever fought. Frankly, she thought there was no need to be so cautious.

Staring up at the gold-washed ceiling in admiration while walking proved to be her downfall, as she consequently crashed into a very solid body while turning a corner, and fell backwards. Heels are not always easy to balance in, especially when you try to defy gravity in them. With a shriek that was as more out of irritation at herself than surprise, she found herself plummeting 1.8m or so towards the ground. Except that she never quite made the distance, with a pair of fast-reacting hands catching her arms and stopping the descent, before hauling her back to her feet. A bit woozy from vertigo, she sheepishly scratched the back of her head. "Sorry about that… wasn't looking, ya know…"

She'd trailed off seeing who she was actually talking to, and took a step backwards. The other person merely threw her an annoyed glance and asked sarcastically, "Is the ceiling so interesting that you forgot how to walk?"

"It's gilded!" exclaimed the transporter indignantly, her slight fear overcome by her mercenary nature as she began to babble about the costs, effect and appearance of the gold paint on one's house, and progressed to the artistic design of the particular piece of artwork hanging above her head. She realised, of course, that she sounded like an art student making up an essay on interpretive framework. Apparently her audience thought so too, because after two minutes, he rolled his eyes and walked off.

Moonbei continued to talk, though she was in fact staring at the destructive pilot's back thoughtfully. Finally, before he could completely disappear from sight, she yelled, "Raven!"

In reply, the addressed turned around with a look of annoyance, clearly stating "What?" with his eyes. In turn, the Gustav pilot contracted her eyes, showing that she was completely serious now. She stalked forward, closing some of the distance between them and glaring, utilising her heels to their potential. Stopping about three metres away, she said, "We know that you've been travelling with Van for the past month and a half. I don't know how the hell he managed to convince you to do that, or what you've done with the real Raven, but-"

"You want me to leave your precious hero alone?"

Dark brown eyes frowned even more. "I don't share Fiona or Irvine's sentiments on that count, not because I believe that he should always make his own choices, but because… from my vantage point, I've never understood you." Ignoring the snort of disdain at that comment, she continued, "I don't know why you're the murderous asshole you were –and possibly still are– but I'm sure there was a reason. People don't just turn out as twisted as you were, something makes them that way."

"What is this, a psychiatric test?" he growled, losing patience. He turned to walk off, but was stopped by a hand holding his arm. Irritably, he shook it off.

"Why are you travelling with Van? I thought you hated him."

"I do. But he wouldn't get lost."

"Riiight," grinned Moonbei sceptically. "That explains why you haven't run off after he ended up unconscious in a hospital, or when you got a hold of his Blade Liger. Both were great opportunities to do so, and you _must_ have seen that. So why did you stay? What are you really thinking?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I don't, as curious as such information might be. But in the interests of my friend, I should endeavour to find out. And just so you know, I can be as persistant as Van is. We'll _both_ be here all day."

About to refuse, the pilot finally grumbled, "That idiot just won't go away. I quietly leave after Zoideve, and he finds me. I nearly kill him so many times, and something's always in the way. I disappear after he supposedly killed me, and he comes rushing right back. I bump into him a million times in zoid battles, and the dimwit just won't die! But I suppose it's my fault after all, since I left him alive after our first encounter, and being the complete imbecile that he is, he actually comes back to challenge me. _Me_. After seeing me rip apart a squadron of Godos like that, something he can still only dream about. He actually comes to find me again. What a moron."

It was plain that he was trying to let off steam, and Moonbei wondered for a moment why he would choose to let her hear this. She idly tucked a bang behind her ear. "Are you frustrated because you couldn't kill him, or because he won't leave after all that you've done?"

"What?"

"I've been wondering about that myself," she mused, talking in the round-about way that she employed with money. "Even though you were undoubtedly more skilled, and you had the killing intent and purpose, you never did kill him, and he couldn't kill you either. You'd just beat each other to pieces, and depending on who won that bout, one of you'd slink away and wait to find the other again. It was… _bizarre_. Before the first Deathsaurer incident, everyone was in the middle of a _war_, and you two didn't care as long as you got your little scuffles. At Cronos, we were warned that a battle would start soon, and he insisted on hanging around to challenge you. Just a challenge, not a death match or anything, like he _knew_ you wouldn't kill him even if he'd lost."

"Excellent. Any chance I might've had of a normal life is officially dead."

"Well, you should have expected that, having the biggest hero in the world as your enemy, the biggest megalomaniacs in the world as your boss, and the biggest psychopath in the world as your girlfriend," sympathised Moonbei cynically. "Is that all you want? To become _normal_ now that you've given up on massacring every zoid you see?"

Shrug. "Or maybe I just want the impossible. Either way."

Nodding reflexively, she caught herself and frowned, before cautiously saying, "You're not half what you seem after all. Just another person who lived through the war, and is trying to continue their existence. Nothing special, to warrant all that attention." Cheekily, in that brash way she was more used to acting, Moonbei waved with a grin to signal the end of the conversation. "Well, it was nice talking to you anyway. If you can't find someone normal to talk with, you're always welcome to chat to one very busy transporter with a fortune to make. I'll see you around then!"

Leaving Raven staring in confusion, she walked off cheerfully, not looking back to see the snort of slight annoyance from the pilot, before he stalked off in the opposite direction, thoroughly amused for the day.

_**ZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDS**_

Cleaning his Lightning Saix was a damned long chore, but one he enjoyed. Humming to himself as he attacked sand and mud stains alike, he was disturbed to turn around for a fresher rag to see a blue-haired girl standing on top of an equally blue Gunsniper that had somehow materialised. Had the hair not given her away, he would have recognised this female from her clothes alone, the multi-buckled dress, skin-tight pants and worn boots well-impressed into his mind from descriptions. Instantly, he reached for the gun he carried for such purposes, preparing mentally for a non-zoid combat.

The grin on his enemy's face widened unpleasantly, though she otherwise did not move from her over-confident pose: one hand fisted on a tilted hip, head cocked slightly to maintain balance. Irvine was suddenly struck by a similar image from quite a few years ago, and gritted his teeth angrily; it was disturbing how alike this zoidian and her partner acted. He flicked the safety off his gun automatically and held it up with a firm hand, eyes maintaining the target in their vision.

"Hn," sneered Ryss, obviously unimpressed by his hostility. "Put that thing away; if I'd planned anything, you'd have been done for before you stepped into this building."

Without his consent, the mercenary's hand began to lower; he fought and won. "Your mind tricks won't work here. I'm surprised that Rudolph even let a psychopath like you into his palace without an armed guard."

"I'm shocked that he let the Guardian Force's dogs into the country without a few muzzles to go around."

He was angry, but he was also a cool thinker, and didn't take the bait. "What did you want?"

"Initially? To check up my zoid." Seeing the suspicious look, she rolled her eyes. "And yes, I do actually pilot these things and fight my own battles, unlike that trash of a zoidian you hang around with. I'd prove much stronger than you too if you dogs didn't run around in packs."

"And now?"

Slightly put off that her taunts were ignored, Ryss shrugged. "Now I'm just trying to goad you into a battle. I could let off a little steam after being cramped up here for the past month or so. You're just the first person I found who wasn't a fifth rate pilot."

"You run around with Raven, and you're telling me that you can't find a sparring partner?"

Her hands flew into the air in exasperation. "It's _Raven_. Who the hell would be stupid enough to _spar_ with him? Might as well just throw yourself into a furnace; it'll be the same result." She looked at him in irritation. "Well, are you up for a match or not?"

"No," he replied after a moment's consideration, though he slowly replaced his weapon in its holster, relaxing slightly. "I'm not interested. You're not my match." He turned back to his cleaning, senses alert to a possible sneak attack.

"Hmph. Men." In disgust, she jumped into the cockpit of her zoid and disappeared with it.

Out of sight from the other pilot, she parked the Gunsniper and climbed out, followed by her organoid. She took a moment to reflect on that event, then started walking as she thought. In truth, she _had_ been checking on her zoid, but when a member of Alisi Lynette's entourage had dropped by to do the same, she couldn't help but investigate. Ignoring orders from both Raven and the Emperor, she'd revealed herself, but not without gaining something in return. Holding out a hand, she whistled cheerfully as a bug crawled in circles in it.

It had been interesting –and educational– to flick through the surface emotions and thoughts of the Lightning Saix pilot. That hostile attitude seemed to be more of a defence mechanism developed from his job as a mercenary and a feeling of injured ego (not even pride) than an actual deep-seated hatred towards her. What he thought about her on a more conscious scale had been too risky to violate, and she had barely any information on what he thought or felt about Raven. Still…

Bugging _him_ was too dangerous, since that blonde would no doubt pick it up. She had less qualms about his zoid though, and the only flaw in her plan was that she had not actually managed to pick a fight with him. There were plenty of chances in the future though, unless she and Raven left rather soon. In that case, there wouldn't even be a need to collect that information, as long as they stayed well out of the Guardian Force's radar. And as long as Van didn't feel the pressing need to find them and announce it to the world with fireworks...

"Maybe we should invite him along," she mused.

"Who?"

Mildly surprised that she'd made it back into their room already, she flapped a hand at Raven. "Nobody. Just talking to myself."

REVIEW RESPONSES:

Yarrie: Hehehe… personally, I don't really like Fiona much, though she could be worse… anyways, I need a few opposing characters to create havoc for my mains, so this could work out juuusssttt fine.

Peter Kim: woah, that is a whole lot of ideas, and I'm flattered that you'd take time to think about my story; thanks. Not sure how many I'll actually use, but you really should write if you don't, and write more if you do.

Taltos: thank you for the info. I think I might find some way to add Thomas into the story once Fiona, Irvine and Moonbei are nicely settled… or maybe not. Gnihihi… NO CHARACTER WILL GET TIME TO SETTLE IN THIS STORY! MWAHAHAHAHA! cough er… is my Fiona teetering somewhere between in character and out of character? Sorry, but I'm not sure I've got a great grip on her. And since my mum blew my VCR (she was a civil engineer for crying out loud!) I can't really check. You'll just have to berate me when I screw up.

Wyrd: I wonder if I could get a plushie of Shadow? Maybe I'm making him a bit too cuddly, but if I'm going to try and make Raven vaguely cuddly (laughs hysterically) I might as well have a good shot at Shadow too. But don't worry, NEITHER of them have any patience for any crap the GF are planning to force on them, and I'm sure that they're tired of being cramped up too. Expect to see some explosions soon!

nightfighter642: a bit of van/fiona coming up for you. Can't say it'll last, but I will try and make it enough.

RavenLover: gah, conflicting opinions on pairings when I haven't made up my mind properly yet… but thank you for the review

chcraven: the review that triggered the release of this chapter. Sorry I didn't get a chance to read your story yet… I haven't read the ten pages of history I was supposed to either… XX


	11. Let's c how crazy I can drive u in 24hrs

AN: No excuses people. I have a few, but i'll take too long to write out. So just assume that I'm just lazy, and feel free to hurl abuse. I CAN TAKE IT! I CAN TAKE IT ALL!

I credit this chapter being finished at all to the fact that my parents just got a new VCR to replace the old one that blew a circuit six mths ago. Long story short, I watched my taped ZOIDS episodes and remembered everything I love about the show, and why I wrote this story in the first place.

Sorry, no review responses this time. I want to get this up to you guys as soon. Enjoy.

**Chapter 11: Let's see how crazy I can drive you in 24 hours**

If Van wasn't expecting to see Raven and Ryss fighting or plotting as he entered the newly-assigned room the three of them had been assigned later that night (yes, it had taken him the entire afternoon to relocate himself), he had no expectations at all. Seeing them making out on one of the beds in the room was certainly not high on the list though, and made him wish that he either had the intelligence to knock or the foresight to bring a camera, if only for future blackmail purposes; seeing the world's two remaining super villains pashing could bring in quite a price for his deflating bank account.

Trying to move around sneakily so as not to disturb the pair (and thus allow the moment to last), he decided to raid the closets to try and find something even halfway decent to wear, and received the shock of his life to find one black zoid of the generally vicious variety perched on top of the furniture, eyeing the make-out session speculatively. If the fact that the huge organoid was fitted comfortably into a cubic metre of space wasn't enough to jolt the heart attack, the leering expression on the metal face certainly was. A glance at another corner of the room showed that at least Ryss' organoid had the decency to (pretend to) sleep through the exchange, making him wonder how such a stoic master had managed to create such a perverted servant, and vice-versa.

Irony is a wonderful plot device for the world.

Randomly pulling out a few garments and accessories, he stared at the mass with a frown, trying to decide which ones to wear for the next night. Eventually giving himself a migraine, he turned around and walked over, patiently waiting for an opportunity to ask one or the other (preferably the latter) of his roommates for a more expert opinion. It also gave him a good excuse for watching the two, noting that although Ryss was far more enthusiastic than a bored-looking Raven, they both kissed slowly and for a very long time. A Very Long Time.

"Have you two been at this since I was gone?" he crankily asked after a few more minutes, beginning to wonder if they both possessed extra lungs, or were just skilled. Receiving a derisive snort as a reply derailed his train of thought, before Ryss momentarily disentangled her mouth to speak.

"No, just the past twenty minutes or so. We were otherwise occupied before then." Her grin widened as she made a very obvious job of checking him out. "Wanna join?"

"Nope," he answered as cheerfully as she had asked, not even flinching from Raven's glare (though admittedly it wasn't directed at him). "_I_ have a date tomorrow night with Fiona."

If the intent of murder hadn't been aimed at him before, it certainly was now. Gulping, Van almost didn't hear the low voice growl, "That damned blonde zoidian you ditched?"

"I didn't ditch her! It was a mutual agreement, and we were always going to remain at least friends, even if we weren't _together_ or dating."

"Whatever," shrugged Raven, coldly turning away. "Don't bring her back to this room."

"Don't give me orders!" He was annoyed, and snapping at the other pilot, and he couldn't figure out what was wrong with this conversation. Unless… "What's it to you anyway?"

"…I'd rather sleep than listen to anything that happens."

"Oh," muttered Van, slightly disappointed. Then his brain caught up to the sentence. "_Oh_… Hey! Get your mind out of the gutter! Dammit Ryss, stop grinning like that! Nothing's going to happen!"

"Che, how boring. Too bad." She stretched out, putting her head in Raven's lap and happily fell onto the ground after she was thrown off. Seeing that there was nothing else to see, Van crankily snagged a nearby wallet and rattled it to confirm that there were coins in it, grumbled at the creased items in his hands and began to slide out.

"Van?"

He turned around to see Ryss braced on her elbows, still grinning as she flapped one hand at him.

"Choose the pink shirt. I'm sure Alisi Lynette will love it!"

The item –which actually belonged to the previous occupants of the room rather than any of the three– attacked her face as an answer, and Van stomped away, muttering obscenities as the muffled high-pitched laughter followed him down the hall. He sincerely hoped that she choked on the item, and that she didn't realise that he'd left the door open before continuing further activities; it would serve her right for making fun of him, dammit!

_**ZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDS**_

The Flyheight that woke up in the palace of Emperor Rudolph at seven o'clock the next morning was not a happy one. He'd used up all the coins in Ryss' wallet without locating a single suitable restaurant via phone, and wandered through the city the whole night to find a bank, only to realise that he didn't have his own wallet with him. He'd then wandered back about halfway, before finding his own credit card mysteriously lodged in the back of the empty wallet he'd held, and had returned to the ATM with curses. These increased when he looked at his account, and sadly removed half of its total amount. Then, he'd been confronted by first a bunch of armed robbers determined for his cash, and then some drunken louts determined for his head. The diplomatic dispatching of these groups took a little longer than usual, since he didn't have either a gun or the free usage of his hands (they were trying to shove the money into a pocket and seal it). Then, he'd gotten lost in the city, until he'd hailed a palace guard back from a night out and followed him home, getting into bed sometime in the morning.

So essentially, the Flyheight that woke up in the palace of Emperor Rudolph at seven o'clock the next morning had gone to sleep at seven o'clock in the morning, and therefore, had gotten no sleep.

Damn. It. ALL.

Groaning as he climbed out of bed again, he glared resentfully at the soundly sleeping Ryss, noting that Raven had already gotten up and left. Deciding not to laugh at the blue tooth fairy pyjamas that the blue-haired zoidian was wearing, he gathered up some items and took a loooonnnnggg shower, feeling much more alive afterwards. Hair dripping slightly onto his comfortable Republican clothes, he contemplated breakfast or at least coffee, and had just decided against it when a knock on the door proclaimed a maid bearing pancakes, syrup, fruit and a pot of caffeine. Enthusiastically exchanging the food for a tip, he read the note apologising for the lack of papayas (they weren't in season at the moment, and rather hard to procure) as he set the lot down and commenced devouring.

Twenty minutes later, an incredibly satisfied and hyper Van set down the fork happily, and started out the door.

"You're going for a battle?"

"Yep!" With a grin, he turned to talk to a sleepy but coherent Ryss, who hadn't moved except to open one eye; lying on her side she could see him perfectly. "I'm going to kick Irvine's sorry ass into oblivion, or at least into defeat. Wanna come watch?"

"I'd rather sleep. Don't overdo it, 'k?" Without waiting for an answer, she rolled over to her other side.

"Yessir!"

Hitting his hand on his forehead when he tried to salute failed to dimmer his mood, as did smacking into various (armoured) guards and objects and tripping over edges of carpets and furniture. Consequently, he arrived at the zoids storage place ready to give Liger a nice long hug and possibly a bottle of champagne to celebrate his recovery before they took a little exercise run. He was thus unprepared for battle, and consequently suffered by walking straight between a rather violent eye exchange between his missing roommate and a certain Lightning Saix pilot over the entire five hundred metre span of the room.

Van made a mental note to instruct Rudolph to move their zoids further away from each other, so that such atrocious off-duty conflicts did not occur.

From what he could see, Raven was quite meticulously attending to the needs of his zoid, despite his attention being partly diverted. Curious for a moment, Van imagined why the Genobreaker's pilot looked so annoyed at the mercenary, and gave up soon after; it wasn't like the maverick needed a reason to be cranky anyway. On the other hand, he could make a fair guess at the reasons for Irvine's reaction, and consequently wondered why he was hanging around someone he hated so much with anyway. He walked across to the Lightning Saix, and waved to Irvine, who didn't move.

"Yo Irvine, you in there?" He flapped a hand in front of the taller man's face. "What're you doing here anyway? Wasn't your zoid in the other room?"

"Waiting for you," the mercenary drawled in response. "And yes, the Lightning Saix was in the other room, but I moved it here so I can keep an eye on it while I wait. Security reasons." Seeing a questioning look on Van's face, he elaborated. "That blue-haired psycho's hanging around the palace for some reason. Who knows what she might do to my zoid if I leave it unsupervised."

Registering that Raven's full attention had been drawn by Irvine's words, Van laughed nervously. "R-really? That's weird. But it's not like you can camp out here or something, right? That would be pretty dumb…"

"Right."

Mentally, he was going over a thousand different ways to kill Ryss, though it looked as though he'd have to hurry to do so; Raven was very swiftly finishing his maintenance work and ripping the equipment apart as he went. This abrupt flurry of activity caught Irvine's interest, and he watched with grudging awe as the routine cleaning and fixing was finished in record time (or at least ten times faster than he could have done) yet still appeared to be a thorough job. As the maverick packed his remaining salvageable equipment with a little more restraint, he turned to Van and asked, "Did you know that she was here?"

"Eh… of course not," the shorter pilot answered, praying that he sounded at least a minuscule bit believable. Seeing that this was unlikely, he quickly switched topics by saying, "Anyway, are we just going to just stand here, or are we going to have that match? I can't wait to pulverise you into oblivion!"

About to storm out the door, Raven turned around and snapped, "The doctors told you not to have another zoid battle for at least a _month_, idiot."

"Since when did you listen to _doctors_, Raven?" cut in Irvine mockingly. Despite the casual question, he shifted into a defensive position, ready for a fight if one came up. "Besides, it's none of your business whether or not Van fights in a battle. That's Van's choice, not yours."

About to snarl something back, the maverick changed his mind very abruptly and stormed off, then stormed right back again, prompting Irvine to lift an eyebrow in question. The reply was also non-verbal; Raven crossed his arms to show that he was waiting for something. Another stand-off occurred between the two, until Van very nervously asked, "Er, Raven? What–?"

"Somebody has to judge the match."

"Oh, yeah…"

At this, the mercenary frowned. "I'm to believe that _you_ are going to moderate this match?"

Cool violet challenged his disbelieving statement, mentally forcing away Irvine's will to argue. Giving up on his objections –albeit very grudgingly– he stalked off to his zoid without a further word and jumped into the cockpit, piloting the Lightning Saix out a side door. Watching with a sigh, Van began to head towards his own zoid and was just settling into the familiar seat and controls when a thought occurred to him. With the hatch still open, it was a simple task to lean out slightly and shout down, "Hey! How're you going to get to the match?"

Seeming to consider for a moment, Raven then shrugged and promptly disappeared. A squeak of surprise was covered by the maverick's voice sounding from above. "This should do quite nicely for now."

Peering up, Van saw that the other pilot had seated himself on Liger's head, using a few bumps and edges for purchase. Shaking his head at the arrogance the delinquent was displaying, he closed the hatch and muttered, "Serves him right if I send him off the top" before following Irvine's lead, making sure the ride was as bumpy as zoid-ishly possible.

Five minutes later, without the mishap of one grey-haired human crashing spectacularly off a bright blue zoid, the latter crunched into a large room and peered around. It was an indoor training rink, around ten kilometers in width and twenty in length, limitations that slightly disappointed the Blade Liger and its pilot. A balcony encircled the room's walls, with stairs leading up from each of the three doors; Raven jumped down and ran up for a safer –though less close-up– view. Having spent some time choosing a preferable position (much to the impatience and ire of the two competing pilots), he turned and said with disinterest, "The match will continue until one of you is incapable of fighting anymore, whether you be dead, unconscious or your zoid is totaled–"

"I don't think it'll be quite that bad, Raven," interrupted Van slightly sheepishly; he shut up when met with a glare.

"If however, I judge that the match is already over, I will stop it." He turned to the Lightning Saix after hearing a snort of disdain, and added, "With or without a zoid."

"Right!" saluted Van enthusiastically. A rather deadpan wave originated from Irvine.

Seemingly satisfied, the self-appointed judge commanded, "Begin."

The word set off a literal whirlwind of action as the Blade Liger charged straight in, too excited to wait for strategies or plans. Claws were outstretched and tore away chunks of reinforced metal floor that preceded its strike. The opponent waited with agitation as metres were sliced away, and the blue zoid advanced from one side of the room to the other. Then, with a sudden burst of energy the latter shot forward, paws outstretched and ready to rip apart the opponent. Irvine began moving buttons.

Speed was the tiger/lion's forte, but the Lightning Saix was named such for a reason. Without waiting for the Liger to run into range, he maneuvered away and brushed past the walls in a blur, then spinning 180 degrees to aim all guns at the halted zoid. Before he could fire a single shot though, the blue zoid launched forward and began firing at his feet, forcing a retreat from the canine. Leaping backwards, the mercenary almost didn't see the beam of blue piercing for him; he twisted mid-air and caught the attack on joint, doing minimal damage but shaking the machine up. Landing heavily, Irvine quickly assessed the damage done.

"Plasma particles?" he murmured, then looked resentfully at his opponent on the screen, who was grinning back. "You've done some serious upgrading on that old zoid of yours, haven't you Van? Any other surprises?"

"None that you need to know about yet, Irvine! You'll find out everything in _due time_."

"I look forward to it," grumbled the mercenary sarcastically, though a glint of anticipation said otherwise.

He moved forward, zigzagging in a blur across the separating distance. Calmly, Van waited as the faster zoid spun into position behind him, and turned in time to catch his opponent head on with the Blade Liger's shield. Metal dug lightly into the yellow barrier, but Irvine quickly jumped off before any electrical damage was incurred. Landing, he grinned as he activated his own secret weapon and pounced forward. Ten inch claws protracted and heated up quickly, colouring from silver to orange to white. They sunk deep into the ward and tore down, producing long openings that he aimed bullets through.

Cursing, Van jumped away before his enemy could pull the trigger, shutting down the damaged shield as he did so. Eyeing the Lightning Saix's paws with annoyance, he scowled, "Is that another new contraption by Dr. D? You're his testing slave, I swear!"

"As a matter of fact, it is. Latest technology, just off the design board."

"I can see that. That thing's got more flaws than a freshly dug up Deathsaurer." With a very wide grin, Van shot forward, still talking. "For example, the length of those claws cuts your maneuverability down by at least 30 percent. That's all I need to nail you, Irvine!"

"You think it's that easy?" To the Blade Liger's disappointment, the unclipped claws protracted quickly, and the Saix jumped out of range. When the lion/tiger zoid stopped, a button released an assortment of missiles into the air above; most smashed into the low ceiling, but a few exploded properly to rain long pinning needles to capture Van. The proximity was dangerous, and one foot was nailed; with an apology to his partner, he wrenched the appendage out, needle and all. Viewing the weapon thoughtfully, he chuckled.

"I don't see what's so funny about getting the Blade Liger injured like that," the mercenary commented. "These new needles will activate electric shocks through your entire Zoid every five seconds. There's perks to being a testing slave to one of the most brilliant scientists in the world."

"Maybe, but I don't need any fancy gadgets to win." Pausing as the first shock zapped his machine, Van grimaced and replied, "I just need these skills."

Without a warning, Liger charged forward again, brushing off the second shock as though it were merely air. Pushing all of his boosters to full power, Van was careful not to land heavily on the injured paw. Even so, the speed was too fast, and the Lightning Saix found itself retreating wretchedly into a corner to avoid the bullets thrown its way. Without room to move, Irvine watched his opponent leap into the air, favouring one side, and swipe down and forward with the damaged foot. The needle point was aimed for the canine's head.

"This match is over."

Surprised, Van made a sloppy midair turning and ended up banging against a wall, crumpling down to the floor with Liger berating him. Straightening up, he yelled, "What do you mean this match is over, you idiot? I–"

"I judged that this match is over, and as judge my word stands." Raven turned and walked for the stairs.

"Now wait here you little… Fiona? Moonbei? What are you guys doing here?"

"I wanted to see you fight again Van," she replied, smiling as she waved. "It's been such a long time, and you've improved a lot these few years."

"Yeah, I can't believe you beat Irvine that easily, and without an organoid at that," added Moonbei, making her way over to her boyfriend to yell down at him. "Hey Irvine, get up, you lazy excuse for a pilot! I need you to help move some stuff, hurry up already!"

"I'm not helping you steal furniture."

"Who said anything about furniture, you big lump! Get up here now!"

"Yeah, yeah." Turning to Van, Irvine remarked, "That was a good match. It's nice to spar with someone of skill once in a while. Next time I've got something new to test out, I'll be sure to ask you to help."

"I'll be there!" He turned and winked at the blonde zoidian. "And now I'm going to go find a nice restaurant for us to eat in! See you later, Fi!"

"See you then, Van."

_**ZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDS**_

As promised, the Blade Liger's pilot spent the rest of his morning fixing up his zoid, then at a booth in the palace garden searching through a phone book and marking with a nifty highlighter he'd found under a carpet (by tripping over it). It occurred to him that a name, address and phone number really didn't tell him much, especially when the names were like "Jo's Food" (he didn't shortlist that place). By lunch, he was endowed with a migraine, and decided to work it off by devouring the huge sandwiches and salads that the maid had once again brought. The delicious edibles made him wonder if he should just treat Fiona to a meal in the palace, courtesy of the mystery person who kept sending him food. Several reasons deterred him; one was that he didn't know who that person was, the other was that he wanted to do this thing right.

With a heavy heart and a sense of doom, he tracked down Rudolph.

The emperor was more than happy to provide aid, once armed with a promise that the pilot would help test out some new zoids that Empire had developed. As the fifteen-year-old worked through the list of eateries, he cheerfully explained that while Rosso and Violo usually did the testing, they were currently being held up somewhere in the west by bandits, and that the last radio contact they'd received from the pair had been two days ago. Asked if he was worried about his "parents", the young teen frowned in reply, then shook his head.

"I'm sure that they're fine. I have complete faith in them."

Eventually finding a restaurant both he and Van deemed reasonable, Rudolph then arranged for a car to chauffeur him around for the day, and handed the latter a mobile and a few phone numbers. Accepting these much more gracefully than he would have normally, the pilot set off in the stretch limousine to the eatery to make a booking for the evening, and familiarize himself with the area and menu. Along the way, he ordered a stop at a jewellery store, and purchased a coral and pearl necklace with a hefty price tag and pretty box. With all his errands for the day run, he was driven home and arranged to meet the car again at a quarter past seven.

Tired out after a long day, he made his way to his room with a loud yawn, making sure to ask for directions. This intelligent method of travelling had him at the door in twenty minutes (why was the palace so damned big anyway?) and he pushed the door open without looking. His eyes were certainly open when he found himself looking at the room's sole occupant, seated on a bed and toying with yet another zoid part. Van gritted his teeth, earlier grievance remembered.

"You gonna tell me why you stopped that match?"

"No. I don't answer to you, Flyheight."

Feeling annoyance build up at the snide response, he slammed the door behind him and stalked to the bed furthest away, in an effort to put distance between him and Raven. Unfortunately, despite the size of the room, he wasn't nearly as far away as he wanted to be since the maverick had decided to occupy the central bed. Entirely unpleased, Van nevertheless resolved to ignore him as he ripped open a hamper and began pulling out items. In the middle of doing so, he burst out, "There was no need to stop that match! Neither of us had won, and it's not like either of us was going to die from my attack! Stopping it at that time was dangerous and stupid and reckless–"

"It's not like you couldn't stop. Don't blame me for your shoddy landing."

"It was not a shoddy landing given the circumstances! What if it had been someone else, huh? They–"

"Would I bother to watch some idiotic amateur–"

"I'M NOT FINISHED!" In a flash, Van had turned around and grabbed the other pilot's collar, glaring heatedly at cool violet. His other hand was already poised to punch. "Answer why now!"

About to refuse, but seemingly bored with the conversation, the maverick shrugged. "I wanted to see the latest advancements in zoid weaponry, and that annoying mercenary friend of yours always has the newest gadgets. Since there was nothing else he had equipped, I saw no need to continue such a boring match."

"Why you…!"

Patience broken, the former lieutenant aimed his fist for the other's nose, only to be caught in a grip strong enough to crack his knuckles. "I told you once that your fighting skills are worse than your piloting," Raven smirked. "Looks like you still need to work on that."

Breaking away when his hand was released, Van angrily picked up the discarded items and stormed away to the adjoining bathroom. He threw a glance back and was about to make an immature comment when he noticed that the Genobreaker's pilot was deep in thought, and probably wouldn't hear him anyway. Slamming another door, he changed and soaked his head thoroughly with cold water under the shower head, before broodily walking back to the bedroom, toweling his head. To his surprise, Raven had already left.

'I have to give him credit for knowing when to get lost,' he thought sulkily, setting his alarm and going to sleep.

_**ZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDSZOIDS**_

Fiona had been ready for a whole of ten minutes when a knock on her door proclaimed her date's arrival. Moonbei and Irvine had already stepped out to test Guygalos' nightclubs earlier, leaving her alone in her preparations. That was okay; she needed to be alone. Now, smoothing out her pale pink dress with ungloved hands, she walked to the door slowly in flat-soled shoes, anticipation building. Jade bracelets clinked lightly as she turned the knob, and opened the room to Van with a smile on her face. He had also been smiling; now he looked stunned.

"Wow, Fiona. You look… um… _really_ pretty."

In truth, she believed that Van was the one who looked pretty, wearing a maroon shirt and black slacks, with a black jacket folded over his arm. His boots were still old and worn though, and the ponytail never neat, she noticed with a smile as she kissed his cheek in greeting. He recovered quickly, and gallantly presented her with a box.

"This is for you, my dear."

Opening it up to find a pricey necklace, she smiled and murmured, "So beautiful," before putting it on. The white pearls and rose coral set off her dress perfectly. Looking up at Van, she asked, "Shall we go?"

Van led her through the palace gardens –lit with lanterns and filled with fountains, displaying luscious plants that should have been ill-suited to the desert environment– where he cheekily pinched a rose to tuck behind her ear. They arrived just as the limousine was pulling up, and sat down inside, where he instructed the driver on where they were going, and the route. Fiona tested the television, and upon finding that there was nothing to watch bar soap operas and the news, switched the contraption off and talked to her date the entire way instead.

They arrived at the ritzy eatery on time, and Van instructed his chauffeur to pick them up again at nine o'clock. Inside, his booking was instantly recognised, and they were led to a table already set for two, yet roomy enough for four. Opening the menus, they each picked an entrée, main and dessert, as well as a drink, then waited quietly until their hands were occupied with glasses. By this time, the restaurant was completely filled, yet the atmosphere managed to remain calm and serene. Fiona sighed happily.

"It's been a while since I've eaten at such a nice place," she remarked contentedly, sipping at her lemonade.

"Why? You've been too busy?"

Nod. "Unfortunately, my position at the Guardian Force Headquarters requires a great amount of time and attention. Also, there's been nobody to take me…"

"What about Thomas?" asked the pilot, pointedly ignoring her hint by slurping his orange juice. "I would've thought that he'd jump at the opportunity."

"Van, look at me." Setting her glass down and waited until he reluctantly did the same. "Thomas and I are just friends, and we will remain so. I'm just… I don't want to date anyone else, Van. Nobody else."

'_Just you.'_ The words remained unsaid, but her intent was clear, even though she immediately began drinking again to change the focus. She watched Van, finding that his face was unreadable, and his mind even more so (that Zoidian's skill had never been her forte). Slightly frustrated at his lack of response, so unlike the little kid she'd once known, she began fiddling with her fork absently, glad when the waiter brought up their entrées. Stabbing rather uncharacteristically at the oysters served up, she waited until after finishing her half dozen before addressing him again.

"I'd like to know what your decision is regarding rejoining the Guardian Force. If you'd–"

"Fiona." Frowning at her, he slowly said, "I'd rather we not talk about these things right now. Maybe… maybe later –there'll be plenty of chances– but right now, I'd like us to just enjoy this meal, without anything of the past, or the Guardian Force, or anything. Please."

She stared at him, almost looking as though she was about to cry. Closing her eyes in resignation, she lifted her head up again and smiled. His request surprised her for a moment, but she composed herself gracefully (if not apathetically). "If that's what you'd like, Van." Lifting her lemonade solemnly, she proposed, "To the present."

"To the present."

The rest of the meal was spent talking about mundane things; Fiona was veering away from Guardian Force news, and Van had already gone through the interesting and none-Raven topics in his anecdotes. Eventually, they ended up on a mutual topic: Irvine and Moonbei. The Zoidian explained the nuances of their relationship, from how it officiated to its break-ups to the current stage. It was entertaining, and it was a good way to past time, but from the looks drawn from other customers and from the uneasiness, in her own heart, she knew what was wrong.

Because there was something intrinsically wrong about a couple on a date spending time avoiding talking about themselves at all cost, and speculating over another couple. Except that…

_Except that…_

"Wow, I didn't think I'd ever say this, but that dessert has me completely filled," laughed Van. "I can't even fit a second helping like a normally do, which is probably good since I doubt an overzealous freak like O'Connell would wonder in and hand me cash at a moment like this."

"Probably not," she agreed. "Are you really full?"

"No doubt about it. I couldn't eat a hazelnut right now, let alone another slice of double chocolate mousse cake."

"That's really too bad," mused Fiona, picking up a gift bag she'd been toting the whole evening. She pushed it over to the staring pilot and added, "I had this brought in from the Republic, since they seem to be out of stock around here at the moment. It can't fly, but–"

"Are you serious!" asked Van, pulling a box out of the bag and tearing away the wrapping. With the care often (usually) afforded expensive china, he pried open the shoebox's lid and lifted out his prize in awe. Turning, he waved enthusiastically for a waiter to bring over a knife and fork; when this was done, he began to slice the item into pieces and slurp up all the excess juice happily. Finished, he offered his guest a piece.

"I brought it especially for you, Van," she whispered. "Eat it."

Not needing a second prompting, he began to demolish the entire thing at record speed, and was done in a matter of five minutes. The skins were all neatly gnawed, leaving not a scrap of actual edible papaya, and the juice had been licked clean off the plate. Throughout the whole exercise, Fiona watched approvingly, and handed him a napkin when the last morsel disappeared. He accepted gratefully.

"Man, you're a lifesaver, Fi," he exclaimed, wiping his mouth and patting his stomach. "I haven't eaten one of those in… a while…" Shaking his head, he muttered, "But I'm really full now."

"It's still early. We should go out for a walk."

"Right. Waiter!"

He paid the bill with a hefty tip on top, and quickly joined Fiona at the door, seeing her impatience to leave; the place was rapidly filling to squished. Outside, they passed several clubs just opening up and other restaurants, but crossed the road to the park instead. Sitting on a bench, Van grinned. "Thanks for just hanging out with me, Fi. It was great. Just like old times." He yawned and leant back against the wood.

"It was," she replied, watching him raptly. "Are you tired?"

"Yeah… just a little bit. Must have been running around too much today…"

"You should go to sleep then."

"Yeah…"

Settling against the bench and her shoulder, the pilot abruptly fell into a deep slumber. Fiona waited for ten minutes, smiling in reply to the knowing giggles and whispering of people walking past. Then, she hailed a taxi and hauled her sleeping companion in, before giving the man her hotel address. As the vehicle drove off and the driver turned up the radio, the Zoidian made sure that he was not listening as she turned on her cell phone and dialed a number.

"Thomas? Come and pick me up at my hotel. Yes. Van's with me. Right. I'll see you then."


	12. I hereby call forth the Council of War

AN: sorry ppl, pointless chapter after such a loooong wait. My bad. I'll get working on the next chapter now.

**Chapter 12: I hereby call forth the Council of War**

"Repeat that again, _slowly_."

"I… uh…" The poor man backed away slowly from a very irate maverick, who made no move to follow him except with blistering violet eyes. Gulping, he closed his eyes and obliged. "Van-sama wasn't there when I went to pick him up at nine o'clock."

"So I can see. And what did you do after this?"

"Well, I… I waited for half an hour, and when it looked like he wasn't going to show up, I went into the restaurant and asked, and they said that he'd left with Fiona-sama–" a flinch at the hostile curse; Raven motioned for him to continue, "–with her at around eight thirty, and hadn't come back."

"Did they see where they went?"

"N-no. Apparently, it was getting to rush hour around there, and all the clubs were filling up…"

He'd trailed off when the door opened, and Ryss walked in unsuspectingly. She stopped abruptly to observe: an imperial employee, white-faced and shaking as he stood as far away as possible from the quiet but nevertheless furious Raven. She moved over to where he was sitting cross-legged on a bed and daringly placed a hand upon his shoulder, asking softly, "What's wrong?"

"Van's missing."

"Ah. That explains everything." She turned to the quivering driver and ordered, "Calm down and tell us everything you know–"

"What's to know?" snapped the maverick. "That Zoidian bitch did this, no mistake."

"Raven, calm down."

"Not likely," he snarled back. Pinning the chauffeur with his best demanding sideways glare, he asked, "Where's that brat of an emperor?"

"You can't just go charging up to him, Raven, he's the emperor–"

"I can and I will, Ryss. We were assured of our safety –including Van's– when we agreed to stay here. If it wasn't for that, I would have been out of here as soon as that idiot could move. He had an obligation, and now that he's broken it, he'll answer for it. Immediately. Well, _do_ you know?"

"I- I was his majesty's personal chauffeur… I can call his secretary..."

"Do so."

As the servant began dialing on his cell phone, Raven stood and began to pack. Ryss followed his lead with a sigh. "You know that the Guardian Force are going to question our sudden absence, right? And without sufficient evidence, we can't point the finger at them."

"Wasn't planning on it," mumbled the Genobreaker pilot. "Was thinking more along the lines of a charged particle beam or five. Fifty works as well, even if that damn chunk of red scrap metal'd probably fall apart right after…"

"Well, we can't aim that either," she chuckled, shoving her toiletries into her own pack. "Not that I'm not tempted to, of course. That is another factor to consider though, don't you think? The 'breaker's core is in bad shape, and that's not something that can be fixed, at all, or else it would have already been done. Only one who could've possibly altered the core was Ambience, and that chunk's dead as well."

"Wouldn't be all that sure…"

"Raven?" Eyes now wide, she went over and shook his shoulder, not even noticing when he brushed her off. "Are you saying there's a possibility that Ambience is _alive_?"

"Anyone could be alive. Prozen didn't die from the first Deathsaurer, that white organoid didn't die from the times I shot the Blade Liger's zoid core, Shadow…" Biting his lip, he continued doggedly. "He didn't die from being hit by a charged particle beam. Nobody worth more than a glance has ever died the first time we tried to kill them, why should Hiltz and Ambience be any different?"

"So are you going to angst over every single person you failed to kill in your life, and stress that the ones you think died might not of and will come back to haunt you? Don't dredge up past spirits, Raven. What's in the past is in the past, and it can't harm us anymore."

"Wrong," the maverick answered frostily. "Until six years ago, I had a perfect killing record. And then I messed up. _Once_. And the whole thing just blows up in my face, quite literally, and I'm stuck where I am today. So I don't believe you when you say the past is separate from now, because it isn't, and it never was."

"You tried to kill Prozen."

"There is a fundamental difference between wanting to kill, and wanting to protect yourself. You can do one without the other, and the result's usually different as well."

"So, Van. Did you want to kill him, or just stop him from getting to your head?"

He sent a cold glare, the like of which she hadn't seen from him in some time. "I wanted to kill him."

It was no good to tell him that he thought otherwise, or pass on her own thoughts on the matter. He always had a nice thick veil between eyes and brain whenever this topic was breached, and she knew that he dwelt on it constantly, far more than was healthy even for someone as screwed over as him. So what if everything he did was related back somehow, and thus inevitably on his mind? So what if he tried to change into something he wasn't –and succeeded at it quite nicely– just to forget who he once was? It didn't mean everything was a fault of the past. It didn't mean everything repeated over and over again.

"I would have felt that little rat if he was alive," she cut in, attempting to talk some sense back into him. "Plus there's that whole organoid link thingy, no? And even if he had somehow managed to survive the Blade Liger plunging through the Deathsaurer's zoid core, he would have been sucked away by the Zoideve sinking back into the ground. So Ambience can't be alive."

"Kindly recall the fact that you and I were also supposed to have vanished into the ground, as you put it so eloquently. And your inability to sense something does not mean it doesn't exist."

"I wish you'd remember that yourself sometimes," she muttered, and was ignored.

"Have you considered why my Genobreaker is still alive, yet was damaged so badly after the whole fiasco with that damn statue and the Deathsaurer? I'm not too familiar with all your damned Zoidian magicks, and there're probably exceptions, but if the creature that resurrected or created a zoid in the first place dies, doesn't that also kill off the one that's still alive? Which is why if the Zoideve dies, all zoids and zoidians go with it. Source of all life and all that other crap. It's also probably why there are so few zoids still alive now compared to what it must have been before."

"I'm not sure it works that way…"

Shrug. "It makes sense in my head."

"Raven, do you know what it means if your theory is true?" asked Ryss softly. "It means that you wouldn't be able to kill Ambience without killing off your Genobreaker, and maybe Shadow along with him. That little runt would haunt you forever."

"Forever is a strong term," he replied, voice equally low. "Because I don't plan to live forever." Shedding the eerie tone, he shrugged again. "Besides, it's worth a shot. We disappear for an extended amount of time, cause trouble for that little brat who screwed us over, and possibly get to fix my damn zoid. Then we go and hunt down the bitch and maybe get Flyheight out of there, and I get beaten to death by about a thousand Guardian Force morons. Huzzah." He frowned at her skeptical look. "It's a plausible thought. Even I can die if a thousands zoids just decided to throw themselves at me. That would be heavy."

She had yet to see this side of Raven, and could merely scratch her head at the sight, supposing that it was stress causing this rather strange change. "I suppose. Ambience had better be close though, or we'll be noticed long before we're out of there, and that'll be a problem time three to deal with. And while I know you want to make things as difficult for the kid as possible right now, we do need his help in fixing this, at least while on Imperial territory. We have to hurry though; if we let them get out of the country, it'll be a mess."

"What does it look like I'm doing now?"

"Don't snark at me, Raven, I'm trying to help!"

Movements slowing down significantly, he sighed as he turned to her. "I know. S… _che_."

"That's okay."

Apparently he was more tired or stressed than she'd noticed; for once he was letting her hug him without pushing her out of a window for one of the organoids to catch (she'd learned quickly that while kissing and biting and sex and fighting in general were accepted forms of contact, hugs were not). Now though, he was actually letting her hug his head to her chest like the angsty-yet-clingy bishie that he was. She took the opportunity to run her hands through his messy grey locks as a peaceful silence descended upon the room. After a few minutes she turned to the shell-shocked servant in the room.

"Did you find his majesty?"

"He's trying to get out of a meeting with his ministers, and may be delayed, but his on his way," the man replied softly, eyes almost boggling out at the innocently sleeping mass she held. "Um, ma'am? Is… he always like this?"

"No," the zoidian murmured in reply, sounding thoroughly pleased with the situation. "Never."

"Ah, um. I see."

She left the chauffeur to his relieved bafflement and meditated on her plans in silence until Rudolph came barging in, looking as though he'd run up seven flights of stairs at full sprint; his hat was held vaguely to his head by a hand, his long hair was flying out of place because of his loss of headgear, and his robes bore definite signs of mishap (jelly stains indicated a shortcut through the kitchens, dirt a path through the gardens, and rug burn a sign of the halls). Idly Ryss wondered how fast the emperor would've had to run to show up like this; she'd heard enough gossip about his prowess at athletics to believe they were true.

"Is… it true?" he gasped, almost keeling over before he repaired imperial dignity and stood up straight, rearranging the hat over his hair and straightening his state robes, though he maintained the panicked expression upon his face. "That Van has disappeared?"

She stifled a sigh at his question; now, she'd have to repeat the calming process all over again. 'Men,' thought Ryss as she slowly outlined the details of what she'd heard to the emperor. 'They're all too excitable.'

"I can't believe she'd do that. I refuse to believe it."

The news of Van's untimely disappearance had traveled fast through a palace of gossipers, and now Moonbei was pacing and occasionally shaking her head as she stared at the untouched bed in Fiona's room; for once, the splendour was lost upon her. Irvine watched her calmly, though he didn't feel half so.

"It's not a matter of whether you believe it or not. The evidence seems to point to that, and the possibility is very high–"

"No, it can't be! Fiona wouldn't do something like that. I _know_ her. They must've been kidnapped by bandits, or… something…"

"Zeke's not here," he pointed out, finality in his voice. "And I know that she didn't take him with her; I saw them leaving. The fact is that we don't know Fiona as well as we thought. She's changed, and neither of us have been around to see it."

"I should've paid her more attention," Moonbei bemoaned. "Instead I was too caught up with my own stuff, and abandoned her when she needed me the most."

"We're all members of the Guardian Force now, and have our own obligations," reminded the mercenary, walking over to cradle his girlfriend in one arm. "I doubt that anyone but Van could've gotten through to her anyway."

"It's all that dolt's fault for leaving us to search for _Raven_. Not that I can blame him… hate how the GF's going these days with their damn propaganda and inability to operate beyond that–"

"Sh… it's bad luck to say things like that," hushed Irvine, quieting the wailing transporter with a finger and looking around. "You don't know who might be listening."

"I don't care. Van was right to leave the Force, and we should have ages ago too. Things aren't the same anymore." Suddenly sitting up straight, she turned to him and gripped onto the collar of his shirt with an intense stare. "As soon as we find that idiot, you and I are going to quit the GF and wander off. I'm betting there's some countries west of here in serious need of a good old transporter-mercenary combination to relieve them of their money and worldly goods."

"Are you serious?" he asked, half-bemused.

"Deadly. You're coming with me, unconscious or not."

"Oh, so you're going to pull a Fiona on me and– Hey!"

After landing a solid punch to his forehead, she sighed and took to her feet, stretching. "But let's be really serious now. I'm betting the rest of the GF crew here know about this plan, so they'll be doing whatever they can to stop us from leaving here. Technically, we're on a special visa that permits us to roam in the palace only, so that'll severely hinder our maneuverability. I suppose it's too much to hope that Fiona's mobility will be similarly restricted; she must've been planning something like this out ever since she heard of Van's whereabouts."

"Our zoids are pretty conspicuous," Irvine mused. "Not often that you come across a heavily modified Lightning Saix and a battle-scarred Gustav traveling together. They'd find us in an instant."

"Speed's more important than stealth right now. We have no idea where she might've gone, so there's a _lot_ of space we have to cover. At least she's currently on Imperial soil. Once she gets near GF strongholds though…"

"Well, we have an idea of which direction she's going in, at least." He resumed the usual bored posture of leaning against furniture with hands entrenched in pockets. "Admittedly, your Gustav is too slow for this task. We'll have to borrow something."

"I've always wanted to try out some of the Empire's Redlars… they look so much sleeker and more sophisticated than the Pteras the Republic uses…"

"Moonbei, we're already going to have the Republic hunting us down for possibly mutinying against the GF. Must we offend the Empire as well?"

"Well, if we're going to be hunted, we might as well be hunted in style and have two armies after our sorry butts instead of one," was her cheerful reply. "Besides, I'm sure there're a lot of others disillusioned with what the GF's doing right now, even if they're not openly saying it. Doc–"

"_Don't finish that sentence_."

Looking at his intent gaze focused behind her, Moonbei realised that there was something immensely wrong. She hadn't heard the sound of the door opening behind her, but she damn well heard the click of a trigger being fiddled with. With reflexes learnt from zoid piloting, she flung herself to the side as Irvine pitched forward the contents of his pocket, a small round orb that exploded on contact, filling the room with plumes of dark smoke. Blind shots rang out from the enemy; luckily, the mercenary had already climbed onto higher ground on the bed, and the bullets buried themselves into the mattress below him. The Gustav pilot was less fortunate; she'd made her way to the emergency switch in the room, and took a bullet to the arm as she switched it.

The blare of sirens shuddered the rooms, drowning out even the sounds of gunshot. In the few seconds that the smoke took to clear, the door had been forced open despite bars and locks, and imperial palace guards swarmed into the room, immediately forcing all the attackers down. The ones attempting to secure Irvine and Moonbei were gifted with contemptuous looks; they faltered for a moment, in which the Emperor stormed in as well. Surveying the scene with a cursory eye, he shot potent looks at the guards harassing his guests until they desisted, and strode slowly into the middle of the room and began to issue orders.

"Call doctors to this room immediately to attend to Miss Moonbei's wound. I will not have her bleed unattended in my presence, thank you very much. These felons are to be taken to the prison cells in the east wing, where they will await trial and the _full power of the Imperial Court _until further notice." Knowing that he'd be interrupted here, Rudolph wisely cut himself off before anyone else could do so (and thus reduce his authority).

"You can't do that. We're representatives of the Guardian Force–"

"You are also here in the Imperial Palace on a special visa, that while guaranteeing your protection to the best of our ability, subjects you to Imperial law should you commit any crime or cause harm to any of our citizens or other guests," replied the emperor, almost roaring his fury at the man. "You have just attempted to assassinate important members of your own entourage, in my palace, and I will not stand for it. Guards, take them out of my sight. I will detail personnel to deal with them shortly."

A doctor with nurse came in as the prisoners were dragged out, and she efficiently extracted the bullet from Moonbei's arm after a quick shot of anaesthetic before treating and bandaging the wound left behind. The nurse packed their equipment up just as quickly, and the pair retreated within five minutes, carrying the hearty praise of their emperor and some material gains with them. As soon as they were gone, Rudolph dismissed the majority of his guard to stand outside of the room, leaving only four figures with him. Firmly shutting the door, he turned around with a sigh, ignoring the sight of Irvine glaring at his companions.

"Well, we got 'em good this time," remarked the emperor grimly as he turned to his audience. "Moonbei, Irvine, I'm so sorry that this occurred while you're in my hospitality. I–"

"How did you get here so fast?" demanded the mercenary, concerned with practicalities as ever. Rudolph nodded.

"After what happened last night, I guessed that something amiss may happen here tonight, so I ordered supervision in this quarter. Unfortunately, the amount of guard could not be increased without raising suspicions, and by the time we received word that the guards around this part of the palace were not responding, the attackers were already well and truly in motion. We acted as quickly as possible."

"Thank the Zoideve for that," Moonbei groaned, arm beginning to sting as the anaesthetic slowly wore off. "If you'd gotten here any later, things could've gotten a lot messier. Irvine, you'd better tell Dr. D that his smoke bombs are only effective for 20 seconds."

"That can wait," he growled, eyes rolling. He returned to glaring at the newcomers. "What are _they_ doing here?"

"Well," smiled Rudolph, appearing _far_ too pleased with himself. "I figured that if the other GF people decided to attack you two, then you weren't involved in the plan to kidnap Van, and would agree to help us find him if you weren't planning to already. It'll be much easier if we work together, right?"

"I don't want to work with anyone," growled Raven, already annoyed from being put under a sleep spell by his on-off Zoidian companion, flung the veiling cloak from his head and walked up to the emperor to glare down at him. "This is a waste of my time."

Before he could stalk off far, the emperor called out, "Hold it Raven. Your ability to fight is unquestioned in this room, but you are not the only able person around us, and you are not going to be rescuing Van alone. With so many powerful allies helping us, it is important that we co-ordinate our movements in order to avoid any undue mishaps–"

"Powerful allies? And who might they be?"

"Dr. D for example," cut in Moonbei, affronted by the sarcasm in his voice. "He's an old trooper who won't fight with anyone if he doesn't believe in the cause. Same with Hermann, and O'Connell's more loyal to Hermann than the Republic. And they're just people from the Republic who're likely to help us."

"So an old geezer who invents faulty technology for those inept at piloting, a former captain and politician's son who's skills leave much to be desired, and his loyal sidekick. Excellent."

"We are well aware on your views Raven, but despite your prejudices I am sure you recognise that their skill levels are among the highest around," countered the emperor diplomatically before anyone could call the maverick forth to answer for his words. As expected, the grey-haired man sneered, but didn't comment further, allowing Rudolph to take his eye off him for the moment. "In addition, Rosso and Viola have just sent word that they have successfully completed their mission, and are currently flying towards the capital. We expect them to arrive no later than tomorrow morning, though if we can get a decent plan up soon we will be able to direct them to a new position."

"Is that the best you can muster from the Republican and Imperial armies combined?"

"We have also contacted Colonel Schubaltz. Though he has yet to reply, we are confidant that he will show that his loyalty to the Empire is above all else."

This trump card was adequate to quiet the disgruntled Genobreaker pilot, who sat on the desk and curled his legs up with a scowl, almost prompting Rudolph to smile. He'd gathered from some older contacts in his army that Raven had shown respect (by his standards) for the former Major that he'd given no one else in their army, which had been excessively large at the time. It seemed that this was still true to some extent, if mention of the elder Schubaltz could produce such a startling effect. The others looked dazed by the sudden transition, making him feel smug; being the emperor (and a good one at that) had some unforeseen benefits after all.

A less-than-subtle clearing of the throat broke his self-induced high, and he glared at Ryss for spoiling the rare mood before continuing. "So there we have it. Quite an extensive list of remarkable personnel at our disposal, though we'll have to act fast to confirm their loyalties. Moonbei, I assume that you have contact numbers for Hermann and O'Connell…?"

"Right here," she confirmed, pulling a hefty address book out of her pocket and flipping through it. Irvine made do with a simple scrap of paper.

"I've got Dr. D's number here."

"Good, good." Sticking his head out of the door, Rudolph yelled some orders down the hall, and a few secretaries carrying traveling desks, cell phones and equipment trudged in after two minutes grace. A phone was handed to Irvine who went to one corner, while Moonbei made do with the fixed one in another. Meanwhile, Ryss helped the diminutive emperor to spread an enormous map onto the desk –once she'd shoved Raven off it– and pin it to the wood with a hammer and nails.

They were just marveling at the job they'd done (regardless of damage to furniture) when Irvine strolled over and declared, "Dr. D says that Van is an idiot to get himself captured, and the world has no use for idiots. Except as a joke. Therefore, with the world being as grim as it currently is, what with the Guardian Force advancing full-speed towards megalomania, we need more things to laugh at." Dramatic pause. "In other words, he'll help."

"Did the old fool say how?"

The mercenary eyed Ryss for a few moments before replying; somehow, it seemed intrinsically easier to talk to her and accept her as an ally after their earlier encounter. "He's actually quite near us at the moment, and he's got a Pteras with him. Give the Doc twenty minutes, and he'll be here."

With a loud farewell, Moonbei also finished her conversation. "Hermann's all set to help out as well. He's close to the border, so he says to just send over the orders when we're ready. O'Connell's with him, as well as some of the guys from their former regiment. They've a nice little troop down there at the moment, though I think some of them complained when he told them to lay off the beer for tonight."

"I don't get it, aren't they in the Republican army?"

"Ah, you guys wouldn't know since you disappeared for a while," nodded the transporter sagely. "They were honourably discharged pretty soon after Zoideve, though now that I see what's going on I'm starting to question what the circumstances behind that really were. Guess I'll have to ask them later…"

"Why didn't you know about the state the Guardian Force is in? You're one of their highest ranked officers."

"Because I'm still a transporter at heart, so I've been away for ages. Irvine, did you know?"

"Oh course not," he replied coolly. "I haven't been to a proper Guardian Force meeting in well over a year, since I've been testing out new equipment on bandits. The last and only time I've seen the heads of the GF were when they phoned to tell me to come here. Guess the Doc sensed something wrong with the arrangement and followed me here."

They spent the next twenty minutes with their eyes glued to the clock on the wall.


	13. You're hiding something from me and I it

AN: Ok, long story short: exams. English, physics, Japanese, maths and the history (revolutions) that's going into my uni. entrance score next year. XX I actually did start writing this despite the revision I had to do (so don't bitch at me or else!) but I really couldn't think up a good ending until about now. But yeah, enjoy.

**Chapter 13: You're hiding from me and I know it**

'The Gustav needs boosters', decided Moonbei as she watched her co-ordinates float away swiftly from the Palace, surpassing even the Lightning Saix in terms of speed. 'Imagine how many shipments I could make with a speed like _this_. Better harass the Doc to cook up something for me once we're done here, and before Irvine and me elope away from all this Guardian Force crap. We've got enough money to live off anyway.'

She frowned as she remembered the scene from two hours ago. The old man had stalked into the room dramatically, all smug, knowing eyes as he loudly proclaimed that he was still more observant than all of them combined, cataracts or not. He still showed a fierce intelligence that decades in both military and political affairs had crash-coursed, and was thus welcomed heartily into the midst of the small group. Nevertheless, she'd checked her normal enthusiastic glomp when it came to her turn; the cane in one hand and the shaking of the other were undeniable indicators of the state of his health.

"Moonbei, slow down," scowled Irvine over the intercom. "You're not moving according to the plan."

"What's wrong, Irvine. Can't stand to have someone faster than you for a change?" teased his girlfriend, though she obliged by pulling her borrowed Redlar to a more sustainable pace. Already, the Palace had left her radar range; the Lightning Saix was rapidly veering towards the edge as well. Soon they'd be out of sight from each other, and the intercoms would no longer function. They'd have to rely on radio only, until even that was cut off by distance. Hopefully, she mused, it wouldn't come to that.

"Pay attention. We don't even know what type of zoid Fiona's going to be in, and she'll probably know that it's you. That'll give her unnecessary warning to hide herself."

"How would she know it's me?"

"Your flying skills," was his simple reply.

Because she would have no chance to do so for a while, she yelled at him as loudly as she could over the intercom, pulling the microphone close to her lips in order to burst his eardrums. He smiled indulgently even as he blocked one ear. When she finally took a short break, he replied, "Love you too."

"Thanks."

They'd almost reached the limits of their connections when both their screens fuzzed, shocking both attentions from their screens to the environment outside. There was nothing strange outside of the Lightning Saix, but soft clumps of ice had begun to cling to the wings of the Redlar. Long experience alerted Moonbei to the situation, and she immediately hit twin buttons marked 'emergency fans' on her panel. Strong whirls blew away a good deal of the flakes from her zoid, but it wouldn't be enough; she couldn't rely on the fans for too long, as they were only designed to slow a possible descent enough for the pilot to survive.

"Irvine, someone's just exploded jamming snow near my position. Judging by the patterning, I'd say five kilometres northeast. Pass the information on. I'll be hunting down the source. Expect to hear from me when the snow's all gone. Over and out."

Her link was abruptly cut, and no amount of swearing at his radio allowed him to contact her using it. His fist clenched over his controls… why _her_? Of all people, why'd Moonbei have to be the first to be attacked? She was using a zoid she hadn't even had time to test before, carrying a bare minimum of ammunition… damn it! She wasn't even a fighting pilot! "Doctor D, come in," he barked, switching his communications. "Come in."

"I hear you. What's the situation?"

"Moonbei's been cut off by jamming snow. She believes it was launched around five kilometres north east from her last position. North 36 degrees, East forty degrees seventeen minutes."

"Diversion or main force?" mused the Doc, marking first Moonbei's position on the map with a pin, then drew an arc with compass and permanent marker to cover the five kilometres northeast Irvine'd just decribed as Rudolph watched. Using a ruler, he completed the sector and coloured the area in pencil. He peered at it for a few seconds, ignoring the simmering tension from Irvine coming over the computer.

Finally, he replied, "With the jamming snow, we can't send any messages to the bases around her position. This is serious now, if military weapons are being used without consent in imperial territory. With permission from his majesty," he looked at the emperor, who nodded, "we'll begin mobilising units from send another unit to replace your search mission. Go to Moonbei, and see if you can't notify the bases in that area of what's going on. You kow their positions?"

"Yes sir."

The screen closed, and Dr. D turned to Rudolph worriedly. "Looks like we're in for another treat."

With a sigh, the emperor rose to his feet and made for the door. "I'll go communicate with my men then."

"This does seem like the type of place Ambient would hide in, if that little lump was alive," remarked Ryss wryly as she peered around the blue-tinged cave decorated with fang-like stalagmites and stalactites. "Of course, I still doubt that he is, but if you think so…"

"You'll scare him off you keep opening your mouth like that," sniped the maverick as he stalked forward into semi-darkness, unaffected by the lack of visibility. Eyes set to glowing, she followed.

"Why'd you tell Shadow and Specular to stay outside? If Ambient attacks, we'll need them to keep our arms and legs intact."

"I doubt he'll be able to cut a sandwich, let alone one of us in his current condition. And the day I lose to an organoid again is the day I die."

"You've seen him already."

He didn't bother to reply.

They reached the entrance of a small, deep cavern that light didn't touch and halted before it. Going down on one knee, Raven touched the worn marks on the floor gingerly. Light sparkled around the lines tiredly, then faded away; he returned to his feet and dusted off his gloves, spitting on the ground to show his contempt before he walked boldly forward, tossing back a command to Ryss. "Be quiet and don't touch anything."

"Don't order me around like I'm your zoid or something," she muttered resentfully, though more from habit than anything else. A frown marred her features as she trailed him clumsily, not as accustomed to darkness as him even with her powers. 'Those are some seriously old magical protections there that he just disarmed. Where are we anyway?'

The light rapidly faded from behind him, though it didn't matter anyway. He knew darkness, and he knew this place. Behind him, a muffled curse sounded when Ryss banged something (probably one of her knobbly knees); he briefly considered sending her back out to wait with the organoids, then shrugged. It would shut her up when he was proven right, as he was when a low amused growl vibrated through the cavern.

/What do you want this time, brat/

"Oh hell," he heard the Zoidian whisper faintly, but he ignored it to step right up to the creature spilled unceremoniously over a large rock. There was a stream of white light that touched a broken tail and a small pond of diluted limestone simultaneously. A slight shift moved the organoid into view for Ryss to inspect, and she did so with morbid fascination. An entire half of the red face had been melted down, and three of his four limbs weren't intact, hanging on by mere wires that fizzled with electricity. The remaining leg was perfectly fine, but little use with his spine snapped in at least three places judging from the irregular bends. His eyes were still an unsettling green, even as they flickered between alive and dead.

/You broke the deal/ he whispered, still faintly bemused. /No visitors, remember/

"Shut it, Ambient, or I'll put you through even more pain than you're in right now."

/What else can you do to me/ sneered the red organoid, shuffling over a bit more. /What can you do to me that's worse than this? You'll merely be _ending_ my suffering, like you should have done before/

"Consider it payback for all you've done."

/I was following orders, just like you./

"We have this conversation every time I come here, and it doesn't change a thing." Stalking forward, Raven shoved a fist past the deformed jaw and into the organoid's throat, almost choking Ambient with the force. His other hand raised as a claw dragged weakly at his arm, and placed a blue stone she vaguely recognised into the jaw before sliding both his hands away. The blue stone gleamed before reacting, melting right into the zoid, who glared hatred at him with revitalised eyes.

/You're following me to hell, Reivun./

"It's only fair."

She understood why he'd barred the organoids from this place now, seeing Ambient's movement increase a little so that he was now in more of a aggressive crouch than a sprawl before them. He'd been fixed by a skilled hand; she could see slightly newer parts, no bigger than screws, spread miserly over the disfigured zoid, just the bare minimum to keep him alive. His core systems were weakened, but functioning, if still only barely after a boost from the zoid magnite the maverick had forced on him.

Raven was keeping the organoid alive and dying at the same time.

"To business then." Dusting his hands off again (the entire place seemed to disgust him to some base extent) the Genobreaker pilot peered down with superiority. "I have a battle coming up, and I want to take a big chunk of my enemies down with me. Chances are the Genobreaker and I won't survive it. I'll have little use for you then."

/You'll let me die/ asked Ambient sceptically, with just a hint of hope in his metallic voice. /You've been playing with this body for two years now, why should I believe you this time/

"You can do nothing else in your current state," Raven reminded him cruelly. "I've broken the old deal by bringing Ryss here; here's the new one. Fix up my Genobreaker sufficiently for the next battle. When it's over, Ryss will come and end your life for you."

/And your organoid will die with me./

He narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Not unless _you_ will it. Which you won't."

/You have no guarantees. What's to stop me from taking your precious Shadow down with me when I die? The little runt might even ask me to, you never know–"

"Hm, maybe I should stay alive then, just to make sure." A smirk. "I might even be able to bring you back, given the right training."

Green eyes faded and shone in an organoid's version of a blink. /You may bear the mark of destruction, but you're no Zoidian. That's an empty threat./

"Try me."

The standoff between them was much shorter than it might have once been, before years of abuse had exhausted Ambient beyond tolerance. He certainly sounded tired as he conceded. /I've barely any energy left, let alone enough to deal with a problem like your 'breaker has. Any repairs will be minimal./

"Just start the process going, and I'll fix the rest." Removing a pair of splints from one sleeve he stretched his cloak over them in a make-shift stretcher, and gingerly picked the disfigured organoid up, bundling him in the cloth. He gave a second dose of magnite to him, prompting Ryss to wonder just how much of it Raven had collected over the last two years, and how he knew to get it in the first place; she'd certainly never seen him lugging around the blue rock when he was working for Hiltz. She lost the chance to question him when he slung his bundle over one shoulder and began to leave.

They exited the cavern and blinked at the sunlight. Twin growls alerted them to their organoids, though discipline prevented either of them from attacking the enemy. Raven ignored them and strode directly for the Genobreaker, parked a good distance away from the Gunsniper; sometimes, fiddling with machines when organoids were involved didn't always go to plan. He set Ambient down and pointed, then stepped back to watch. Ryss stepped up beside him as a bolt of red-tinged light shot into his zoid.

"How did you know all of that? And was your threat for real?"

"Unlike you, I haven't been idle these past two years," he grumbled, frowning as he watched threads tightening over the Genobreaker. "I've been researching how organoids and zoids function, how their intelligence and life work."

How to control their life and death.

How to make sure nobody ever took Shadow from him again.

"Where'd you find all this information anyway? I thought the Imperial army destroyed any useful documents when Prozen was in charge."

"Zoideve."

Sometimes she really hated the simple way in which he expressed complex ideas. With a little nudge, she extracted whatever information he was willing to share with her, and glanced over the range of ancient monuments he'd visited over the last two years in between breaks at his old house, stocking up on supplies and meetings with her. They'd popped up from the disturbance the Zoideve had caused in the earth, and were gradually sinking back into the sands to rejoin the city. They were also conveniently located far from any sort of humanity, explaining why neither she nor Van could find him unless they were lucky.

The runes on the artifacts he'd explored were beyond her knowledge, but his own comprehension clear. Through his mind, she read about the ability and right makers had to destroy their own creations upon death, with a simple wish for it, and understood why the Deathsaurer hadn't died in such a way; it would have only taken one of the hundreds of builders to hope the monument lived on for it to do so. She learned as he figured out why in the ancient wars Zoidians themselves –whether from the opposing side or your own– were targeted as much as the zoids fighting the battle: to stop them from creating more, to hinder the ability to collaborate over projects, to trick them into destroying their own legacies.

The conclusions he drew from these findings were shown in practical use as he stitched up a red organoid lying in pieces under his hands.

'It's your choice whether to destroy your creations or not when you die, unless you die naturally; there's an automatic assumption then that they're your legacy, and you want them to survive. Which is why the Zoideve is a vindictive little bitch, or a safeguard, depending on how you look at it. Now get out of my head, Ryss.'

When she looked up, he was looking at her in a bored manner, though a slight smirk tilted his lips. He was taunting her because she could no longer reach directly into his more personal thoughts; he seemed to have built some resistance to her probing. Ryss let it go, walking away to hide the sad expression upon her face. She'd thought all that aggression against Van was just bluff, or at the most revenge for trying to kill him. Fair enough, justified, moving on. But seeing what he'd done to Ambient was too much for her. She'd believed she was evil and cruel enough to keep up with him, but it seemed she'd hit her limit. He was too sadistic for her to bear. He was still too much of a zoid pilot, a soldier and warrior.

She wasn't. She was just a simple Zoidian. A Zoidian who'd seen death and pain and suffering in the short time she'd been awake, and remembered it from times long ago. She couldn't stand it then (the reason she'd begged to be placed in a capsule before the war had even climaxed) and she still couldn't stand it. They'd blamed it on her empathic powers; she knew it was herself, a part she wouldn't change and couldn't trade, the part that couldn't bear to love this side of Raven. The side he showed on the battlefield.

As she crawled into the cockpit of her Gunsniper to cry over the man she once loved, she could only congratulate Van for being able to see that facet and still forgive… if only because he was the same type.

Karl Schubaltz was a subtle man, unlike those around him. Oh, he'd known the trouble it would cause if Van actually managed to find Raven; as a man of the military, such instinct was vital to him. He'd also noticed the more unsavoury dealings of the Guardian Force, and hazarded a guess towards the consequences of such actions; none of his conclusions were particularly favourable to the people around him, so he'd ushered those he knew and could order around as far away as possible. Apparently, it didn't work.

He'd seen this coming, no doubt about that, but he'd for once _hoped_ for later rather than sooner. So he wasn't greatly surprised when his emperor sent him a rather urgent S.O.S. as he was maneuvering his little group of Molgas (the worm-like zoids seemed to maintain an affinity with him, though he really didn't know why) through a bandit-infested canyon somewhere far away from both the Imperial Palace and Guardian Force Headquarters, instead of him sending the information back. Leaving him with a dilemma.

His loyalties lay first and foremost with the Empire; that much hadn't changed despite his continuing stint in the Guardian Force. He made his own decisions based on what he thought were right and wrong, and at that moment he had two missions of similar importance weighing him down, in conveniently different locations. For one thing, this particular pack of bandits had been a great big toothache for him since he began the difficult task of uprooting them, and there was a certain duty owed the little villages around the area; the only reason they hadn't upped and left already was his guaranteed protection.

Of course, the other matter also required fairly urgent attention. Van was an icon to all that were zoids; a kidnapping would be enough to spark some kind of world-wide riot were the news widely known, prompting civil war, foreign war and practically every other military-related war that existed in common terminology. Something of that magnitude would be impossible to put down nowadays, since the armies of the Republic and Empire had been down-scaled to promote peace and harmony. Leaving only the Guardian Force (secretly) capable of fixing the problem, which seeing as they had no scruples about causing it in the first place, seemed unlikely.

Apparently, foresight didn't do anything when you didn't think up a plan to counter the problem. It only made you feel more stupid.

He'd been a high-ranked leader for quite a long time now, over a decade. He knew that staying here that extra day to finish his current mission was a bad idea on so many accounts; rushing would create trouble, time was precious, they probably couldn't finish the job. So, what to do? Could he abandon his unit to finish the job properly? After all, the order from his majesty had only included himself, not his entire fleet of Molgas. But then, did he return in his Sabre Fang or the Iron Kong stationed at GF Head… never mind that then.

The instinct he had that he was called up because of irreplaceable personal values finally made up his mind. Frowning, he called up his subordinate, a joker with a mean sense of tunneling. The words "Don't do anything stupid, such as die" were the crowning part of his speech. He left the woman with a sense of confusion and duty, and himself with a weighted conscience as he entered his Sabre Fang and began the seventy-two hour trip back to imperial territory.

His head was fuzzy, not in pain but certainly uncomfortable. That feeling you get right before throwing up, or when you've experience _way_ too much vertigo. Groaning, he raised his hand to rub at his head…

That was odd. His hand wasn't responding.

Trying the other finally got some nice friction onto his head, easing the headache slightly. Enough to see properly at least. Light was filtering through a large, clear plastic window, and ventilation through a duct of some sort leading into the… building? Turning his head, he observed that he was in a tiny cabin of some sort, and the whole thing _was_ moving. It was some sort of transport machine then, probably not a zoid. Actually, he had no idea what kind of machine could have such space in the interior. New technology maybe…?

'Well, it all makes sense now,' he thought wryly as a blonde head poked in rather sheepishly. 'If anyone could build something like this in this millennia, it would have to be this guy.'

"Ehehe… good to see you're awake, Van."

"I'd say the same for you since it means I can knock you to the ground with a nice solid right hook," he replied sarcastically, watching Thomas flinch at the idea. Sighing, he grumbled, "Relax. I can't even get up right now. Why'd you tie my hand down anyway?"

"Well, I haven't quite perfected the equilibrium of this thing yet, so every time we stop or start it's quite a landing. The seatbelt wasn't enough for you though, since you kept hitting your hand on the wall while we were moving. And as much as Fiona-san would like to stay with you, we really need two people to keep this thing running."

'Seatbelt?' Moving his hand, he found the buckle while the inventor kindly freed his other hand, then sat up to deliver the promised blow, albeit lighter than he'd threatened. "So why're you here now, if you need two people to drive? Aren't you scared this thing'll tumble over?"

"_No_, it's not going to, since we've slowed down our pace somewhat. Fiona-san asked me to do this. She figured you might be angry with her."

"Damn straight I am. Drugging a papaya's low. Sacrilege." He'd half-raised the proffered water to his lips for a second before lowering it to glare at Thomas suspiciously. Seeing his look the blonde waved his hands sheepishly to indicate that it should be ok. The liquid itself didn't taste particularly funny, but then neither had his tampered papaya. Van sighed; his one known vice had become a target for vandalism. Huzzah.

"So are you going to tell me where we're going, why I'm here, why _you're_ here too for that matter, and what Fiona's planning, or are you going to let me pester you until you do?"

"Oh, nowhere special," hedged the engineer, staring out the window to make sure there were no discriminating landmarks to give the other pilot a clue. He needn't have bothered, as there appeared to only be sand and dunes for miles around. "Actually, I don't really know what's going on either. I was on a working holiday when Fiona-san called me. She wasn't exactly elaborate."

"Did she mention kidnapping me?" asked the brunette sarcastically. Thomas seemed to brighten at this.

"No. I actually freaked out when I arrived at the hotel to pick her up. There I was all hopeful that I might finally be able to go on a date with Fiona-san, and you ruined it as usual." Sobering slightly, he added, "I _was_ very surprised at her actions, and a little sorry that I'm helping her. I can only hope that her motives remain good."

Touched by the other's admission, Van shook his head. "Thomas, man, don't you ever feel like you're getting duped? I mean, your inventions are pretty much on par with Dr. D's crazy contraptions, you're a pretty decent pilot and a really nice guy, and yet you're still working for peanuts at the GF and slaving after someone who still doesn't open up to you."

"I live in hope," smiled the lieutenant. "But not everybody's a hero who can gain everything they want quickly, only to find out that there's something else out there for them. We normal humans take a while longer, so the process must look terribly slow to you."

"I guess…" Thinking this over a bit, the Blade Liger pilot shrugged and jumped up. "Come on, you've got to show me around this joint. I want to be up to date with the latest technological advances, so if it means I have to suffer your company for a little longer, so be it."

"Be prepared to be awed."

They were already outside the door and discussing where to start looking when their ride ground to a shaky stop, nearly rendering them both to the ground. The creator was just about to snipe back at the other's comment of "Thomas, you _really_ need to work on this thing's sense of co-ordination" when a sliding door not far from them opened. The retort died on the blonde's tongue, and Van turned instead to the newcomer with a frown.

"Fiona."

AN 2: Now that you're all a bit less cranky, I 'm going to say a few more things. I've seen a grand total of Thomas on screen for.. oh, maybe 15 secs overall (in the last episode) so I _know _he's horribly OOC. Ryss too, I've only seen in the last episode; the rest that I know about her is from summaries/shrines (funny how all the Raven fangirls hate either Van or Ryss, if not both)/other ff. This, and all my ignorance about the CC/GF Zoids series will hopefully be zapped away when I get my order of all 67 episodes from America. At least I hope it's all of them... 11 dvds, 6 episodes each disc... they wouldn't be so cruel as to split the last 7 episodes onto 2 discs would they? WOULD THEY! cough

anyways, few notes for the ending (yes, we are near the end!) I should be able to fit this story into 20 chapters, including the epilogue. I'm thinking more around 18. And I know that heaps of writers seem to die when they're within 5 chapters of finishing, but I'll try not to. If there are any pairings or other content I feel I need to warn you about, I shall do so when I release that chapter. I have about 2mths holidays coming up, so I hope to have at least 2 more chapters up before the end of Jan. next year. so until next time...

AlienYak

p.s. I _do _think that Ryss isn't as cruel as she pretends to be. The whole Nichalo (spelling?) thing proves that.


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